


How to Win Friends and Influence Peter, Harold's Guide to Surviving High School

by NoveltyToy



Series: A Series of Seriously Bad Decisions [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Actually Autistic and Really Queer Author, Additional Warnings Apply, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Autistic Character, Bad Decisions, Best Friends, Character Development, Childhood Trauma, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Important Discussions, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Norman isn't evil so much as he is just severely mentally ill and making really bad choices, POV Multiple, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Build, Sympathetic Villains, Underage Drinking, butt stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 83,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoveltyToy/pseuds/NoveltyToy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Osborn has Massive Daddy Issues. He also has a huge crush on his best friend, Peter Parker, who also happens to be Spider-Man. There's also this really bad thing from Harry's past that seems determined to catch up with him, despite all his efforts to pretend that nothing ever happened. Caught in a mess of terrible secrets, schoolwork, stalkers, supervillains, sexual misadventures, and the meddlesome spider-themed public menace raining on Harold's parade, Senior Year at Midtown High might just kill him.   </p><p>Meanwhile, The Friendly Neighborhood Hero has accepted Tony Stark's personal invitation to join a new team of Avengers. And as if dealing with supervillains, common criminals, homework, a new job, an amazing high tech lab, awesome science bros, and some kickass but annoying coworkers isn't enough! Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane, the general populace at Midtown, his new teammates, his Aunt May and even Parker's little Peter all seem to be conspiring to make him a little bit gay for his best friend. All that aside, our pal Spidey really needs to find time for a nap. No one makes good decisions when they're sleep deprived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summary of Events and Trigger Warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This "Chapter" is here to be used as a Quick Reference for myself and any readers that may be sensitive to trigger related content or want to have access to more thorough chapter summaries. 
> 
>  
> 
> **If you don't like spoilers, _feel free to skip ahead to the first real chapter!_**

#### Chapter Breakdowns.

######  _*****_ Chapter 1:

### Summary of Events and Warnings.

I'm planning to combine plot points from _The Spectacular Spider-Man, Ultimate Spider-Man_ and the Marvel Cinematic Universe into my own Alternate Universe in which this story takes place. Bear with me while I sort out exactly how to explain what's going on.

My *original* inspiration was for a Venom/Harry/Spider-Man story and it's grown from there. (Shout out to Giga_Kitten and her story "Dark Desires" for giving me the idea.) So this started out as “Harry Osborn and The Symbiotic Creature From Outer Space!” but then I realized that there’s a whole lot of backstory that I would like to cover _before_ the symbiote is introduced.

Then somewhere along the line of brainstorming ideas and drafting chapters, I realized that I really enjoy writing Norman Osborn’s character (most heavily inspired by _The Spectacular Spider-Man_ version). Norman _really_ pulls focus (sorry/not sorry), but I'm no evil genius so don't be too critical of the schemes I come up with for him. And if there’s any Norman/Harry or Norman/Peter shippers out there, strap in! Because I have big plans for you! _But…_ you’re going to have to be _really_ patient, because it’s going to take a while before the _fun_ really begins. In the meantime, there’s going to be a lot of angsty Harry/Peter pining that slow-builds toward a super fluffy relationship while I establish Harry  & Norman's really complicated and heated father/son dynamic.

I have quite a bit written for scenes that occur way in the future, but there's a lot of groundwork to lay down before those events will make any sense (plus, they're kinda sorta constantly changing depending upon how events unfold). So I can't promise quick updates, but I love having more people to bounce ideas off of so please, please comment if you're interested!

####  **Main Character Notes**

(Warning: Spoilers)

 **Harold "Harry" Osborn** identifies as non-binary and bisexual. He prefers masculine pronouns (he/his/him) but also enjoys using feminine titles (such as "princess" and "queen") and frequently compares himself to female characters. Harry is also a survivor of severe childhood trauma (including a near death experience by drowning, being kidnapped, molested and gang raped). The "Daddy Issues" that he has developed are very complex, and difficult to explain without giving away more massive spoilers. 

 **Peter Benjamin Parker** is my autistic character. There are a whole host of different ways that his neurodivergence affects his relationships, the way he interacts with the world and how he understands himself.

One major struggle that he will address in this story is discovering that his sexuality isn't as straight forward as he initially thought. It never really occurred to him that there would be any need to question his sexuality, but he will eventually come to realize that he is demisexual and panromantic (that is, he has the potential to be _romantically_ attracted to people of any gender, but he is only ever _sexually_ attracted to people that he has formed a strong emotional connection with). 

 **Norman Osborn** is a closeted homosexual. His mother abandoned him when he was a child, his father was verbally and physically abusive, but Norman received support and a sense of direction from his grandfather - who impressed upon Norman the importance of continuing the family's legacy.

When Norman fell in love with one of his college professors, he was for a while sorely tempted to forgo starting a family, but he needed money to start his company and he would only be able to access the trust his grandfather had left him if he got married and produced an heir. So he married Emily Lyman (a student studying law that he happened to have shared some undergraduate classes with, she came from a family of lawyers and politicians and she was also an undercover SHIELD agent). They didn't fall in love so much as develop a shared worldview, similar ambitions, and a romantic affection for one another. Emily was aware of his affair with Mendel Stromm before they became friends (as her SHIELD assignment involved shadowing Dr. Stromm), and the three of them founded OsCorp together. 

Additionally, as a result of his traumatic childhood and genetics, Norman developed schitzoaffective disorder (this started _well_   _before_ being exposed to The Super Soldier/Oz/Goblin Formula). The most frequent and disturbing of his symptoms is the Auditory (and sometimes Visual) Hallucination that comes to be know as The Goblin and provides the inspiration for Norman's villainous alter ego. Additionally, Norman experiences cyclical periods of Mania and Depression. The most extreme incidents have involved psychotic breaks from reality where he has become extremely violent, either blacked out or had an "out of body" experience while it appeared to him as though The Goblin took control of his body, and his understanding of events often take on some very creative interpretations of the facts due to his disordered thinking. 

  _Author's Note: if Norman's backstory sounds intriguing to you, hit me up in the comments! I'm slowly working on a prequel to this story that would be entitled,_ "Osborn With A Curse: The Tale of a Father and His Fairy Princess."  _It would primarily revolve around Harry's Childhood, but with many glimpses into Norman's past and a graphic depiction of Harry's "tutoring sessions" with Eddie Brock._

####  **A Couple Notes About Canon Divergence**

In my personal opinion, _Ultimate's_ art is pretty, but the plot and dialogue is cringe worthy _at best._ So I'll only be loosely stealing some scenes and set up from that show, while I plan on keeping the origin stories for most of the characters from _The Spectacular Spider-Man_ cartoon - with a few exceptions.

*Venom hasn't appeared yet.

*Eddie's role has changed quite a bit. He's no longer a childhood friend of Peter Parker, so they only know each other through Pete's internship at ESU. Meanwhile, Harry actually knows Eddie both through Private School and private tutoring/babysitting arranged by Edward Brock Sr. as a way to curry favor with OsCorp's CEO.

*The Goblin has been causing a bit of chaos, still being largely responsible for manipulating circumstances to start a gang war, but Spider-Man never discovered the Goblin's connection to Osborn.

*Harry never drank the Globulin Green, because he had no desire to try out for the football team or any other sport. Instead, he joined drama club with Mary Jane. In fact, Harry is quite a bit different from the version seen in _Spectacular Spiderman._ My version is much more comparable to _Ultimate Spider-Man._ But I prefer to imagine Dane Dehaan when things get sexy. Also, _at least in this story,_ Harry Osborn self-identifies as Bisexual and Non-Binary.

There's going to be a lot of minor characters floating around and I'm really going to _try_ to do them all justice, _no bashing,_ except I can't really help it when other characters voice a really negative opinion about some of them. But I am going to mix in enough perspectives that hopefully everyone seems pretty well-rounded, rather than any cardboard cutout villains or gal pals. So there’s that.

 **New Readers be warned!** Everything that follows after this point will be filled with **spoilers!**

Since this story is going to be long and a little bit complicated, I’ve decided to compile a guide here with summaries of all the chapters’ events to help everyone keep up with the story’s progression with minimal confusion. Hopefully this will also help those that want to skip over  **_triggering_ ** content and still be able to understand any significant changes that have transpired.

**_*Trigger Related Note:_** I am fallible, so if you notice any triggering content that I’ve forgotten to warn about, then let me know so that I can add it to my list.

 

 

###### * Chapter 2:

### Along Came Petey

####  **Late Night Longing:**

Featured Characters: Harry. Additionally, thoughts of Peter and Norman.

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for suicidal thoughts, pining, abandonment issues and an inferiority complex.

Features heavily: One-sided Harry/Peter.

Harry lays awake in bed thinking about the start of the new semester (his senior year of high school) and specifically focuses on his feelings for Peter Parker and makes vague plans to _finally_ confess his desire for _more_ than friendship. When he falls asleep, he has nightmares about a traumatic incident in a locker room.

####  **Waking, Fast Breaking, Feet Dragging:**

Featured Characters: Harry and Norman. Additionally, thoughts of Peter and mention of Harry’s chauffeur/bodyguard, Emanuel (OC).

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for Daddy Issues, anxiety, eating disorders, academic struggles, an inferiority complex, and vague mentions of past trauma.

Minor Mention of: One-sided Harry/Peter.

Harry wakes earlier than intended, has a quick morning workout and fusses over what to wear. Reluctantly, he has breakfast with his father, making vague plans of what he needs to do to impress the older man, and asks Norman to join him on the ride to school. Harry suggests that it would be a good time to discuss Norman’s expectations for the new semester. His father agrees and tells him to wait by the elevator for him, and while he’s waiting Harry thinks about his relationship with Peter. (Also, Eddie Brock is mentioned to have been the Student Tour Guide during their _“totally forgettable”_ field trip to ESU. And it is revealed that Eddie used to tutor/babysit Harry.)

####  **Along Came Petey (a Flashback):**

Featured Characters: Harry, Peter, and Norman. Additionally, mentions of Peter's dead parents, Uncle Ben, and Harry's deceased mother.

  
**Trigger Warnings:** **** ****for anxiety, father-son tension, and the mentioning of dead parents and bullying.

The Beginnings of: One-sided Harry/Peter

Near the beginning of seventh grade, Harry has recently transferred to public school and is riding in a limo with his father when he notices Peter bent over his bike in the pouring rain. The Osborns pull over and Harry offers Peter a ride, which the boy accepts. There is an uncomfortable conversation in which Harry mentions how Peter gets beaten up at school and Norman suggests that the two boys could be friends. Harry acts like a brooding pre-teen while Pete is very timid. When Peter mentions that he never knew his parents, Harry feels sorry for the boy - and thinks of his own mother who passed away before he had a chance to know her. Transitions into how Harry thinks his father feels about Peter and how Harry has come to adore his classmate.

 

 

###### * Chapter 3:

### #Squad Goals

####    
**A Car Ride Confrontation:**

Featured Characters: Harry & Norman. Additionally, mentions of Eddie Brock.

**Trigger Warnings:** for suicidal thoughts, father-son tension, neglect, verbal abuse, anxiety, academic struggles, and super vague mentions of physical violence and past trauma.

The conversation between Harry and Norman doesn’t resume until they’re in the car. Harry makes promises about how focused he will be on his schoolwork this year. Norman is both unimpressed and disbelieving, reflecting on Harry’s past failures and speculating as to the cause. Harry becomes defensive and retaliates with his own rant, which Norman easily parries with disparaging comments about Harry’s subar academic performance. Harry admits to personal weaknesses, particularly impulse control issues, and _insists_ that he’s committed to making better choices. Father suggests arranging for another tutor, Eddie Brock is mentioned. Harry becomes visibly anxious and upset. It is revealed that Harry and Eddie got into a physical fight on the campus of their private school that resulted in the both of them being expelled. Norman interrogates Harry, wanting to know the reasons for their falling out. Harry refuses to answer, he doesn’t want to talk about it, and he advises Norman to never hire Eddie. Arriving in front of the school, Norman decides to drop it for now, but tells Harry that this conversation will continue later tonight.

####  **#SquadGoals:**

Featured Characters: Harry, Mary Jane, and Gwen. Additionally, mentions of Peter.  

**Trigger Warnings:** for abandonment issues and the mention of a disparaging nickname.

Little Hints of: Harry/MJ (Friends With Benefits), Harry/Peter and Gwen/MJ

Harry arrives early enough that he has time to hangout with Mary Jane and Gwen in the cafeteria before classes start. He immediately cozies up to MJ and asks after Peter, who is of course running late as usual. Gwen mentions having had a conversation with Pete via text the previous night, and says that Peter has some big news to share with everyone. As of yet, no one knows what that news is. Harry worries that he and Peter are drifting apart. MJ reassures him that ‘the squad’ will all stay friends _for life,_ no matter what happens. Gwen teases them about what big dorks they are and then they separate to go mingle with some of their other classmates.

####  **Secret Identities (a Flashback):**

Featured Characters: Gwen and Peter. Additionally, mentions of Doc Ock, The Lizard, Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Liz Allan.

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for mention of Uncle Ben’s death and also one super awkward/embarrassing moment for Petey.

Mentions of: Past Peter/Liz and One-sided Peter/Gwen that gets immediately shut down.

Using the excuse of a “study session” to get Peter alone, Gwen confronts Peter about her suspicions that he’s Spider-Man. She has a whole list of reasons for this, which Peter does a poor job of discounting, until finally Peter confesses that it’s true. Peter opens up to her about everything that’s been going on, including the tragic death of Uncle Ben and how/why he feels guilty. They both cuddle up on the couch together and go through half a box of tissues. Peter reflects on his disastrous relationship with Liz Allan and why he thinks Gwen is a much better match. When he works up the courage, he stutteringly asks Gwen to go out with him and she reacts with a look of horror. Gwen shushes his awkward rambling and tells him that she’s only interested in dating girls.

 

 

###### * Chapter 4:

### Gwen Ships It

####  **Gwen Stacy: Genius, Friend, Secret Matchmaker?**

Featured Characters: Gwen, Peter, and Harry. Additionally, mentions of Mary Jane, Liz and Norman.

**Trigger Warnings:** for heteronormative assumptions, Harry’s Daddy Issues and fear of abandonment.

Hints of _what-might-be-mutual_ Harry/Peter and a little One-sided Gwen/MJ.

Peter is predictably late, arriving just as the bell rings, and sitting next to Gwen Stacy. His friend warns him that his bromance with Harry may be in jeopardy. Peter asks her to keep running interference, to which she reluctantly agrees after voicing her discomfort with lying to their friends. Gwen also discretely expresses her concern about his superhero activities. Pete promises her that she won’t have to worry about that anymore, but that the details will come later when he’s ready to reveal his big news.

Gwen’s keen investigative mind puts a bunch of clues together and reaches the conclusion that Harry has a crush on Peter. But Pete objects to this, saying that Harry is definitely straight and into MJ. They’re distracted by _Science!_ And the argument is dropped, but the seed is planted.

As Peter is leaving class, he meets up with Harry in the hall. Peter has some almost-gay thoughts about how attractive and desirable his friend is, feels a little disappointed when he decides that _'even if Harry was interested in men'_ he wouldn’t be interested in Pete. Then he _immediately_ feels compelled to think hard about how totally straight he is.

So they walk together and make conversation which manages to include Harry suggesting that Peter move in with him. Things get a little awkward, Harry recovers by remarking about how he’s sure to need a lot of help studying and he’ll provide snacks and car service if Pete will pull some all-nighters with him. Peter objects to this suggestions, unsure if he’ll be able to find the time, and Harry resorts to pleading. Harry is worried that his father will kick him to the curb if he can’t raise his grades. Peter tells him to _chill,_ he thinks he’s overreacting. Then the conversation is cut short, because they both have to get to class. Harry walks away mentally kicking himself for being so stupid.

 

 

###### * Chapter 5:

### Romeo & Juliet

####  **Lunch Break:**

Featured Characters: Harry, Peter, Gwen, MJ, Ava and Sam. Additionally, mentions of Tony Stark, Spider-Man, The Avengers, Aunt May, The Vulture, and Norman Osborn.

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for feelings of paranoia and betrayal.

Hints of: One-sided Harry/Peter, Harry/MJ (FWB).

Also very vague suggestion of Peter/Spider-Man suspicions.

The squad all sits together during lunch. Harry whispers to MJ about the stupid thing he did in front of his crush. Gwen teases Peter by asking MJ to spill the secret, but MJ is a good confidant and reveals nothing. Instead, MJ teases Harry, insisting he should just ask this person out already.

Gwen changes the topic, asking about Peter’s big news. Peter reveals that he’s gotten a job working for Stark Industries, getting paid to do science, and will receive specialized training. The girls express encouragement and excitement for Pete, but Harry does not take the news well. He’s immediately suspicious of this ‘opportunity’ and worried that Pete is going to be taken advantage of. He’s also pissed because _Tony Stark_ and _Norman Osborn_ are business rivals, and Harry had hoped that he could win points with his father by eventually recruiting Peter to work for OsCorp.

The conversation is interrupted when Peter Parker (AKA Spider-Man) spots Ava Ayala (AKA White Tiger) and Sam Alexander (AKA Nova) across the cafeteria and beckoning him to join them.

After Peter excuses himself to go speak with them, the girls reassure Harry by saying that Peter didn’t say anything about looking for a lab job because he didn’t want to take advantage of Harry’s friendship. It’s nothing personal. MJ secretly thinks that Peter didn’t say anything because Norman Osborn is an asshole. Gwen knows that this is really a cover of some sort for Spider-Man related activities. Neither one is able to share these thoughts with Harry.

Gwen distracts them from the angst by mentioning the possibility that this makes Harry and Peter star-crossed lovers.

####  **Team Meeting:**

Featured Characters: Peter, Ava and Sam. Additionally, mentions of Tony Stark, Harry, Norman, Iron Fist, George Stacy, and Maria Hill.

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for moody teenagers and a female character getting stuck playing peacekeeper and killjoy.

Nova and White Tiger invite Spider-Man over for a quick team meeting. Sam asks if Pete is going to introduce them to his friends. Peter promises to, _eventually,_ but says it’s a bad time because Harry is in a bad mood. They remind Peter to keep the details of his “new job” vague and to be extra wary around Osborn, because they’re worried he might sneak around. Peter is offended on his friend’s behalf, but puts minimal effort into defending him right now. Ava insists that the real concern is that Norman Osborn might attempt some sort of corporate espionage.

####  **Montagues and Capulets:**

Featured Characters: Harry, Peter, Gwen, MJ.

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for mention of pseudo-incest (in reference to Harry/MJ FWB)

Featuring: One-sided Harry/Peter and mention of Harry/MJ (FWB) making the sex.

While Peter is busy in the Team Meeting, Harry and the girls cast themselves in roles for _Romeo & Juliet. _Harry is Juliet, Peter is Romeo, MJ is The Nurse, and Gwen is The Friar. When Peter returns, they inform him of this game and he’s a little embarrassed but rolls with it - glad that the mood has improved in his absence.

####  **After Lunch:**

Featured Characters: Harry. Additionally, mentions of Peter, Tony Stark, Norman Osborn.

 **Trigger Warnings:** ****for brooding.

As usual, One-sided Harry/Peter is present.

Harry is brooding because he feels that his friendship with Peter is being threatened by Peter’s new job working for his father’s rival. Mention of how Norman Osborn actually expressed an interest in mentoring Peter last year, which emphasizes how/why Harry feels betrayed on his father’s behalf. He contemplates how to handle this new development. Ultimately, he decides to keep an eye out for any useful info that he might be able to pass along to his father while trying to arrange for another opportunity to lure Peter into the Osborn family.

 

 

###### * Chapter 6:

### Rich & Nerdy

####  **The Bad Day That Just Would Not End:**

Featured Characters: Harry and Peter.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for tired, moody teens.

Fifth period, second to last class for the day and Harry is exhausted. Peter cheers him up just by sitting next to him. Also, they're in the same Research & Debate class. This excites Harry because he has high hopes of being able to impress Pete.

####  **Best Frenemies for Life:**

Featured Characters: Harry and Peter. Additionally, mentions of Norman Osborn and Tony Stark.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for tired, moody teens trying to make nice and repair their friendship.

As the boys are leaving their class together, Peter takes Harry aside and they privately discuss why Harry is upset about Pete’s new job. Harry apologizes for not handling the news well and reiterates his concerns about Pete possibly being taken advantage of. Then Harry admits that he had hoped Peter would come work for OsCorp, but mostly he’s upset because this “complicates things” and they barely have any time for each other as it is. Peter hurriedly reassures Harry that they will make time for each other and then he dashes off to make it to the last class of the day.

####  **Rich & Nerdy:**

Featured Characters: Peter. Additionally, he thinks about Harry and Gwen.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for stubborn heterosexual Peter Parker.

Hints of _possibly-maybe-mutual_ Peter/Harry.

Peter has some free time to ponder things during his last class for the day and his mind drifts back to Gwen's theory. He thinks about his friendship with Harry and why they could never be a couple (aside from how _totally straight Pete is,_ he has other reasons). Then he thinks about how none of those thoughts really apply to Harry, because of other reasons. Actually, they’d make an amazing team, if Harry was a girl then Pete would definitely be smitten for sure. Ultimately though, he decides that his friendship with Harry is too important to risk losing him by confronting him over this imaginary crush. _And he’s definitely going to make time for Harry no matter what, because he does not want to lose him._

####  **Bullies, Burgers and Homework (a Flashback):**

Featured Characters: Harry, Peter, Flash, two of Flash’s “flunkies,” and Aunt May. Additionally, mentions of Norman Osborn.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for Flash and his flunkies being jerks and bullying Peter. Also, mention of Flash’s abusive father.

Seventh Grade, Peter is being picked on the day after the Osborns gave him a ride home. Someone stole his lunch that day and now Flash and his flunkies have cornered him in the hall. Then Harry shows up, interrupting them before the tormenting gets too bad, and he talks shit until they leave. Then Harry asks Peter for help studying because he totally bombed the test. Peter agrees and invites him to go back to the Parker residence (so his Aunt and Uncle will be close at hand to help him just in case this is some sort of cruel trick). Harry buys him lunch on the way, and they both wind up enjoying each other’s company almost right away.

 

 

###### * Chapter 7:

### When We Were Young

####  **When We Were Young (a Flashback):**

Featured Characters: Harry, Peter, Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Flash Thompson and Norman.  

 **Trigger Warnings:** for mention of Flash being pressured to follow gendered expectations, and Harry’s lonely childhood.

The fluffy beginnings of Harry and Peter’s friendship, and also some mention of One-sided Peter/MJ.

Another Seventh Grade Flashback. The squad begins forming as Harry has befriended both Mary Jane and Peter. Parker thinks about how well his first study session with Harry went and is excited/anxious about this new budding friendship. Harry and MJ both join Peter during lunch at school and they all reminisce about their childhoods. It is very clear that Peter has a big crush on Mary Jane.

They talk about how MJ, Peter and Flash all used to play together when they were really little. Then Flash ditched them when he started joining sports teams and made more friends, it is implied that Flash’s father may have pressured him into this after catching Flash and MJ doing _girly_ things together. Harry feels bad for some of the mean things he said to Flash the previous day and decides to track Flash down and try to mend fences between them.

When the conversation switches over to Harry’s childhood, it becomes a little bit depressing. Harry distracts from the glum by acting like a rich brat and then suggesting that he should invite them both to come hangout at his penthouse.

####  **A Flash Flashback, Friendly Competition:**

Featured Characters: Harry and Flash. Additionally, mentions of Peter.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for anxiety, pre-teens talking smack, some lame masculine posturing.

Continuation of the previous Flashback, Harry tracks down Flash at the end of the day and works up the courage to approach him. Harry apologizes for bringing Flash’s dad into the smack talk the other day. Awkward tense conversation ensues, where Harry makes it clear that Peter is his friend now and he’ll fuck Flash up if he messes with him. They call a truce, Flash agrees to ease off a little and make do with a little friendly competition.

####  **The Squad Regroups:**

Featured Characters: Harry, Peter, Mary Jane, Gwen. Additionally, small mention of Norman and Eddie.

**Trigger Warnings:** for small mention of Harry’s “body insecurities,” his anxieties related to the Locker Room.  

Hints of Harry/Peter and Harry/Mary Jane (FWB).

The squad meets up after classes end for the day. Harry wants them all to hangout together, but Peter and Gwen both have their lab jobs to attend to. Harry suggests that he could stop by Peter’s work and they could do dinner or something. Pete says he’ll have to run that by his boss to see if it would be okay. There’s a silly _Romeo & Juliet _joke. Then MJ agrees to hangout with Hare.

 

 

###### * Chapter 8:

### Thirsty Teenagers

####  **A Little Flirtation:**

Featured Characters: Harry, Mary Jane, Emanuel (OC, Harry’s chauffeur). Additionally, mentions of Norman.

**Trigger Warnings:** ****for horny teenagers, kissing, groping.

Harry/Mary Jane (FWB), a hint of past Harry/Emanuel.

MJ and Harry are leaving school, flirting, and there's a brief interaction with Harry's chauffeur, Emanuel. A brief past make out session between Harry and Emanuel is mentioned, which the former expresses regret over, but they are both still shown to enjoy each other’s company. Mary Jane and Harry both talk gossip about their _Romeo & Juliet _game. Harry tells Emanuel not to say anything about this to his father. Emanuel honestly says he won’t.

####  **Strawberry Kisses:**

Featured Characters: Harry and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Peter, Eddie, Harry’s Mystery Crush, Norman.

 **Trigger Warnings** **** **:  **for underage drinking, flirtation, angst, kissing, cuddling.

Harry/Mary Jane (Just Friends With Benefits!), Heavy on the One-sided Harry/Peter, and introducing One-sided Harry/Mystery Lover.

Harry and MJ relax at the penthouse. They have a few drinks and discuss crushes. When Harry prompts her to be honest, MJ tries to dissuade Harry from pursuing Peter. Harry tries to imagine what it would be like if he and Peter just had a romantic relationship, if there was no chance that Pete would be sexually attracted to him, he still tries to justify the two of them having a future together. But MJ knows how important sex is to Harry and encourages him to give up on Pete. She asks him if there’s anyone else that he’s interested in, hoping that she can get him to move on so that they can all stay friends.

Harry thinks about a Mystery Crush, an attraction that he is ashamed of and tries very hard to bury. He won’t say who he is, but he confesses a few vague details to Mary Jane. She doesn’t like the sound of this guy, he sounds dangerous. They both wind up cuddling on the couch.

 

 

###### * Chapter 9:

### The Friends Of My Friends Are My Adversaries

####  **Gwen’s New Confidant:**

Featured Characters: Gwen and Eddie. Additionally, mentions of Peter and Harry.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for secret motives, manipulation.

Featuring One-sided Eddie/Harry and the rumors of potential Harry/Peter developing.

Gwen is finishing up at Connor's lab and preparing to leave when Eddie stops by and wants to talk. Gwen thinks Eddie is _a little too friendly_ , but she remembers how he acted heroic during The Lizard Incident and dismisses any concerns that Eddie could be anything other than a nice, big brotherly sort of guy. When Eddie asks about Peter, Gwen tells him about Peter’s new job. It is revealed that Eddie never actually liked Peter, he only tried to befriend him so that he could gain access to information about what Harry is up to.

Pretending that he only wants to “relive the glory days” of high school through Gwen, Eddie convinces her to talk about her friends at Midtown. She tells him about her suspicions, that she thinks Harry has a big crush on Peter. Eddie is upset by this information. When Harry/MJ is mentioned, Eddie readily ignores that, thinking MJ is only a “beard.” Eddie offers to be Gwen’s confidant, asking her to keep him informed about this drama, and promising to lend an outside perspective. Gwen thinks about this for a moment, but ultimately agrees, thinking that this will be a relief. Then Eddie mentions wanting to get back in touch with Peter.

####  **New Avenger’s Orientation:**

Featured Characters: Peter and Tony. Additionally, mentions Maria Hill, Luke Cage, Danny Rand, White Tiger, Nova, Harry and Norman.

 ** Trigger Warnings: **for Tony being a bit of an ass.

Featuring Tony Stark VS. Norman Osborn. Also, Tony and Peter have an adorable Mentor/Mentee relationship. Let’s be honest, Tony totally wants to adopt Pete.

Brief description of what The New Avenger’s Team looks like.

Peter asks Tony's permission to bring his friends into Stark's Building. Tony is cool with it, until he realizes that Peter is talking about bringing _Harold Osborn_ into his building. But Peter gives him the puppy eyes and begs, saying that his friendship with Harry is really important and he doesn’t want to lose him and he promises that Harry won’t try to steal anything! Tony still doesn’t trust Osborn, but he agrees. In fact, he insists that he will be present for this little party! And he’s going to really sell the idea that he only recruited Peter to piss Normie-kins off. Peter worries that this will only make things worse, but he thinks it’s still worth trying.

 

 

###### * Chapter 10:

### What Did Eddie Do?

####  **Daddy's Home:**

Featured Characters: Norman, Harry, and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Eddie Brock.

 ** Trigger Warnings: **for past underage (group) rape, bullying, derogatory language (gay slurs), father-son tension, coming out, questionable parenting.

Featuring: One-sided Harry/Norman and past Eddie/Harry.

Norman returns home and continues his discussion with Harry from earlier that morning (see chapters two and three, scenes: “Waking, Fast Breaking, Feet Dragging” **  
** and “A Car Ride Confrontation” ). He finds Harry and Mary Jane sleeping, cuddled together on the couch (following where we left them at the end of “Strawberry Kisses” in chapter 8). Norman gives Mary Jane permission to the stay the night in the guest room, and then he demands to speak with Harry alone in his office while she calls her parents.

There is a minor argument between father and son about what Harry’s been getting up to with Mary Jane, in which Norman makes it very clear that _he knows_ they’ve been fucking around. Harry brushes it off as basically, ‘duh,’ being obvious and then comes up with a logical argument as to why Norman should allow it. Norman doesn’t really care, so he makes no attempts to interfere, as long as his son promises to be vigilant about using protection and not making a spectacle of the affair for the tabloids to pick up on.

Harry agrees, hoping that’s the end of it, but Norman still wants to know about Eddie. After some careful prodding, Harry finally confesses some of what was done to him, skipping over some very important details. Father and son hug, Norman providing physical comfort because he knows it is an effective means of quieting Harry’s anxiety and getting information from him faster while also building trust and keeping Harry dependent upon him.

Through Harry’s thoughts, it is revealed that Eddie and a group of his friends raped Harry in the locker room at his private school. But he only tells Norman that they lured him to the locker room to attack and harass him for being gay. He claims that he never told Norman because the experience was humiliating, and he was still too confused, ashamed and coming to terms with his sexuality. He comes out as bisexual. Norman accepts this information, easily, saying that it doesn’t change the way he feels about Harry and he had always suspected that Harry wasn’t completely straight anyway.

Privately, Norman thinks that Harry is weak and pathetic for being reduced to tears over a little beating and some name calling, he thinks that he’s been too gentle in keeping Harry so sheltered. But he offers to blacklist Eddie, to reward Harry for telling him the truth and prove to the boy that he can be trusted. Privately, he thinks Eddie wasn’t special anyway and probably would’ve proven to be a liability anyway, considering how easily he turned on Harry.

Finally, Norman informs Harry that he is leaving to go attend a black tie affair.

 

###### *Chapter 11:

### In & Out

####  **Eating In**

Featured Characters: Harry, Mary Jane and Norman. Additionally, mentions of Eddie.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for mentions of past sexual abuse, coming out and emotional hugs.

Following the events of "Daddy's Home," Harry rejoins Mary Jane. MJ was unable to speak directly with either of her parents, but is happy to just assume that she has permission to stay. MJ notices that Harry had been crying. Harry tells her that he just came out, and then they both go to fix super. They wait for Norman to leave the residence before having a serious conversation about what Harry and Norman discussed in the office.

Once Norman is gone, Harry tells her how happily surprised he was at the way Norman handled his coming out. MJ is happy for him and supportive, but still worried for her friend. She asks about what led to that conversation and Harry is reluctant to talk about it. With what little he is willing to say, MJ figures out that they had been talking abou the same man that had molested Harry. Her knowledge of "the incident" is extremely limited. Harry admits that he didn't tell Norman the whole truth, he says that he's not ready yet. MJ respects his decision, and reassures him that the whole squad will be there to support him when he is ready. They have a very emotional moment, hugging it out. All that emotion makes them horny. Cue the sex in the next scene.

####  **Eating Out**

Featured Characters: Harry and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Gwen and Peter.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for sex, cunnilingus, vaginal intercourse, mild gender dysphoria, really weird and also some really mean dirty talk.

Harry and Mary Jane are strictly Friends With Benefits. One-sided MJ/Gwen and Harry/Peter short fantasy sequences during the sex.

There's a lot of silly foreplay. They use protective barriers (gloves, makeshift dental dam and condom), plenty of lube and a bullet vibe. There is a very big emphasis on consent, Harry doesn't feel comfortable getting sexy without explicit verbal consent. MJ understands the reasons for this and tries to keep it fun while he reminds her to let him know if she ever gets uncomfortable or wants him to stop. As they finally get to it, he thinks of this as his "true purpose" and is glad for the opportunity to "feel useful" by pleasuring one of his most highly valued friends.

Harry is a giver, he gets her off orally, then he fucks her from behind while she uses the bullet vibe to self-stimulate. At different points during the scene, MJ fantasizes about Gwen and Harry fantasizes about Peter. Orgasms for everyone. There's also a lot of not-so-subtle references to Harry's nonbinary gender identity (he's self conscious about his sensitive breasts, envious of Mary Jane's curves, feels ashamed of his penis, and even fantasizes about being a girl in the context of imagining himself being in MJ's position while Peter took his place during the vaginal intercourse).

 

 

###### *Chapter 12:

### Norman Osborn

####  **A Talk With Tony**

  
Featured Characters: Norman Osborn, The Green Goblin (Auditory Hallucination), Tony Stark, Henry Peter Gyrich. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker, Senator Robert Kelly, and Tombstone.  
****

**Trigger Warnings:** for a mentally ill character with an ambiguous diagnosis and (poorly written) schizophrenic symptoms, Tony drinks champagne, the two billionaires both act like jackasses, and Norman's thoughts in particular are not very nice.

Norman is at a fancy party, looking for Henry Gyrich and Tombstone. Tony stops by to taunt him, telling him about how he recruited Peter and Spider-Man. Norman feels betrayed, because he felt a special kinship with Peter and thought of him as a son (a better son than Harry). This whole interaction is meant to establish several things:

 **(1)** Their rivalry, mutual dislike, and the fact that they are _both_ suspicious of each other's motives. Norman truly believes that Tony is more of a threat to global security than he is any sort of hero. He considers him reckless and dangerous.

 **(2)** Meanwhile, Tony thinks that Norman is probably a sociopath, an asshole, totally out for himself, and just a huge jackass that totally gets on his nerves without even having to say or do anything! Norman just oozes so much class and charisma that it irks the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist who basically thinks that he owns the spotlight and how dare this stupid meanie pull focus and convince the other kids to break/steal his toys (by which, I mean, Norman has been stealing his business and using political friends to fuck with Tony's hugely dangerous and destructive toys). Okay, so maybe I didn't manage to fit quite all of that into the dialogue, _but I tried._

 **(3)** Norman is possessive of Peter Parker. He likes Peter and wants to groom him as a potential heir. He's really upset about Stark recruiting him, and you can expect Norman/Green Goblin to seek out some revenge for this perceived slight.

 **(4)** This story follows the events of The Avengers, Age of Ultron, and Civil War. Iron Man is still grappling with the consequences their heroics have had on civilian populations. He feels guilty about some of the decisions he's made and may still be partially inclined to agree with the assertion that there should be some form of oversight for Super-Heroes/Vigilantes.

The entire time, Goblin provides unwanted commentary. And when Norman is finished speaking with Tony, he takes Henry Gyrich aside and discretely gives him a hotel key card, and it is very heavily implied that the two will be fucking later that night. Then Norman returns to his search for Tombstone.

####  **A Talk With Tombstone**

Featured Characters: Norman Osborn, The Green Goblin (Auditory and Visual Hallucination), L. Thompson Lincoln (AKA Tombstone). Additionally, mentions of The Vulture and Hammerhead.  
****

**Trigger Warnings:** (poorly written) schizophrenic symptoms, threats are heavily implied.

  
Tombstone and Norman Osborn meet to discuss Norman's connection to The Green Goblin. Tombstone knows that Norman was somehow involved in creating Molten Man for The Goblin. Norman tries to insist that it shouldn't matter, because it still benefits them both in distracting Spider-Man. Tombstone is not appeased by this. Norman says that he would rather work with Tombstone, but he can't with Tombstone still being under criminal investigation. And then Norman implies that The Goblin has been threatening his son. They both appear to agree that Gobby is a mutual threat. They begin conspiring together.

 

####  **Norman Osborn Talks to Himself**

Norman Osborn and The Green Goblin (Auditory and Visual Hallucination) have a quick chat. They both agree that Tombstone wasn't entirely fooled by what they had to say, but they doubt he suspects the truth. The Crime Boss won't trust them and will likely try to set a trap, but Norman is confident that he'll be able ready to deal with whatever it is. The Goblin taunts him by asking what he'll do when Harry is attacked. Norman does not respond, he just feels tired and sick and wants for his bed. The Goblin reminds him that Henry is still waiting for him.

 

 

###### *Chapter 13:

### Fucking With Henry Peter Gyrich

 

####  **Go To Bed**

Featured Characters: Harry and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Norman and Peter Parker. Also, a stuffed animal named Benji.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for mention of Harry being turned on by thoughts involving his father.

Short and fluffy scene. Following the events of **Eating In & Out,** MJ wakes Harry up and tells him to go to his own bed and snuggle with his stuffed tiger. She doesn't want to risk Norman catching her snuggling with a naked Harry, he really needs to go brush his teeth, and she's just not a very considerate bed partner apparently. Because she snores and hogs all the blankets and pillows. And just to be mean, she put his dirty clothes in his hamper and didn't fetch him any clean ones, so he has to streak down the hall. Then there's a cute moment where Harry snuggles with his stuffed tiger who he totes named after Peter.

 

####  **Fucking With Henry Peter Gyrich**

Featured Characters: Norman Osborn, The Green Goblin (Auditory Hallucination), Henry Peter Gyrich. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for a mentally ill character with (poorly written) schizophrenic symptoms, sex, The Goblin encourages Norman to sexually assault, physically abuse and/or verbally harass Peter Parker, Master/slave Kink and the absence of any barrier during a rim job.

Featuring: Norman/Henry but also Goblin encouraging some potential Norman/Peter Parker in the future.

These are the most important plot-related paragraphs:

 

> He glanced at the mirror for a long moment, narrowing his eyes in warning against the itching he could still feel in the back of his mind. The Goblin was growing stronger, more difficult to ignore, and the constant intrusions were wearing down on him. Especially since he started donning the costume. Letting his hallucination out to play was beginning to feel like a very big mistake, and one that he could not afford to take back.
> 
> Now that his son’s life was on the line, it was more important than ever that he succeed in his grand plan to control the New York Criminal Underworld. It was no longer enough just to be rich, money could only go so far these days. Bought politicians and even the most high-end security systems could be beaten by a _lone man._ The sooner the government could be convinced to enforce a registration system on all of the _enhanced_ individuals out there, the better equipped he would be to monitor those potential threats. His enemies were everywhere, waiting, watching, and plotting his demise. To outmaneuver them, he had to be prepared. Norman _needed_ to be smarter, stronger, more ruthless and resourceful than everyone else.
> 
> _He needed to never feel powerless ever again,_ and yet his efforts thus far had _ironically_ made him more susceptible to the faults in his own mind. If he wasn't careful, there was a high risk that he could experience a psychotic break from reality, and lose sight of himself under the influence of his own delusions. 
> 
> _{"Relax, Normie, there’s nothing to fear. I only want to help you,"}_ the voice cooed. _{"Forget your big plans, just for an hour or two. Take that simpering fool for a ride he won’t soon forget. I’ll wait, go ahead and enjoy yourself."}_ Norman knew better than to trust any sort of encouragement that his alter ego offered, but he often found himself succumbing to his suggestions regardless. _It did seem sensible,_ after all, he worked hard. He deserved to occasionally reward himself. And The Goblin was an extension of himself, their existence intertwined, it would not - could not dare lead him too far astray. Not when it so convincingly seemed to have its own sense of self preservation.  
>    
>  _{"No, I would never hurt you. I'm your friend, Normie. We're a perfect team, inseparable, partners in crime, you and me, and me and you. Just as it's always been. It's everyone else that can't be trusted. Us against the world, all of it, everyone. No one else is on your side."}_ The incessant prattling got old fast when he needed to expend valuable time and attention to keep pace with The Goblin's strange commentary. Eventually it would fade, the words would become unintelligible, and his companion would murmur simple reactive sounds of surprise, glee, anger and disappointment until he had something he really wanted to say.

   
The rest of Norman/Henry is mostly just gratuitous smut and getting you acquainted with Norman's relationship with The Green Goblin while I establish how Norman Osborn is definitely down to fuck dudes.

Also, introducing the idea that he may even be attracted to Peter Parker, although he is not really so morally bankrupt that he would try to rape or seduce a child. He doesn't want to hurt Peter but he still wants to see him suffer for the perceived betrayal from the last chapter.

The Green Goblin, on the other hand, is not restricted by any code of ethics and would gladly pounce on the opportunity to get whatever he wants without being burdened by any feelings of remorse.

####  **Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This**

Featured Characters: Harry and Mystery Man who refers to himself as Daddy.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for sexual assault of a seventeen year old boy and Daddy Kink.

Harold appears to wake up, he hears noises in the other room and wanders out into the hall. He calls out for his father, "Dad? Is that you?" He can't find the light switch. He gets pushed up against the wall from behind and pinned there by a stranger who refers to himself as Harold's Daddy. But the voice doesn't belong to Norman Osborn. Harry insists that this person is not his Daddy, and he calls out for his Dad to save him while he is sexually assaulted by this stranger. It is very heavily implied that the stranger is The Green Goblin. (Details for why GG is invading Harry's dreams will follow in a later chapter at some point, because I do have a scene all sketched out for that. An event that took place at some point during their Junior year in High School.)

He wakes up to discover that it was just a nightmare.

####  **Who am I to Disagree**

Featured Characters: Norman Osborn, Green Goblin (auditory hallucination), and a sleeping Henry Peter Gyrich. Additionally, mentions of Tombstone.  
****

**Trigger Warnings:** talk of destroying a center for young, disenfranchised members of the community.

###### *Chapter 14:

### It's All Spider-Man's Fault!

 

####  **Harry is Horny, Hurt and Humiliated**

Featured Characters: Harry. Additionally, mentions of The Green Goblin, Spider-Man, Peter, Gwen, MJ, Aunt May and Norman.

 **Trigger Warnings:**  for memories of violence, underage rape, death threats, drug use, bondage, daddy kink.

Harry awakes from a nightmare in which he was sexually assaulted by The Green Goblin. He remembers an incident that occurred over six months ago, when he encountered The Green Goblin on a rooftop, the supervillain had been battling with Spider-Man. While Spidey was distracted, The Goblin abducted Harry.  
  
Harry suspects that Spidey may have thrown The Goblin at him on purpose with the hope that Gobby would eliminate his romantic competition. Harry believes that Peter Parker and Spider-Man have a secret relationship, and that Spidey is taking advantage of Pete. He also speculates that Peter is still virginal, because Peter has always relied heavily on Harry for relationship advice.  
  
As for what happened after Harry was abducted by The Goblin, he remembers spending a long weekend in one of Gobby's hideouts. The Goblin drugged, blindfolded and raped him. As part of his efforts to negotiate his safe release, Harry acted as though he was a willing participant (but given the whole coercive nature of this event, it still definitely qualifies as dubious consent at best). As well, in spite of how terrified he was, Harry remembers some aspects being enjoyable, he blames the drugs for this, and he finds himself both disgusted and aroused by the memories of their brief time together.

Harry also worried that with The Green Goblin may have taken pictures (although he never saw a camera - _he was blindfolded_ after all), and he's concerned that the villain may try to use them as blackmail if The Goblin ever realizes Harry's true identity.  

 

###### *Chapter 15:

### The Gabby Goblin

 

####  **Norman is Haunted by His Hallucinations**

Featured Characters: Norman Osborn and The Green Goblin (Auditory Hallucination and Alternate Persona). Additionally, mentions Harry.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for all the same stuff mentioned in the previous warning, as well as...

 

 

###### *Chapter 16:

### TBA

####  ****Breakfast and Bad News** **

Featured Characters: Harry, Emanuel and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Norman.

 **Trigger Warnings:  **for

Harry is informed that his father received threats last night that pertain to him specifically. That there are going to be new security protocols. Also, Emanuel prepares breakfast for Harry and Mary Jane before they leave for school.

####  **A Civil Discussion**

Featured Characters: Peter and Gwen. Additionally, mentions of Harry, MJ, Tony Stark and other Avengers.

Peter arrives early for school and meets up with Gwen to have a private discussion. She asks about his big news and how it relates to his Spider-Man activities. They get into a discussion that sheds some light on Peter's perspective of the events that transpired during 'Civil War' and where things were left off with regards to the fallout from Tony signing the Accords.

####  **Bi The Way**

Featured Characters: Harry, Mary Jane, Gwen, Peter. Additionally, mentions of Emanuel and Norman.

 **Trigger Warnings:** for coming out of the closet,

Harry comes out to all of his friends as bisexual.

 

###### *Chapter 17: TBA


	2. Along Came Petey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Late Night Longing:**  
>  Characters: Harry. Additionally, thoughts of Peter and Norman.  
> Trigger Warnings for suicidal thoughts, pining, abandonment issues and an inferiority complex.  
> Heavily Featured: One-sided Harry/Peter.  
> Harry thinks about his crush on Pete and makes plans to finally tell him how he feels.
> 
>  **Waking, Fast Breaking, Feet Dragging:**  
>  Characters: Harry & Norman. Additionally, thoughts of Peter.  
> Trigger Warnings for Daddy Issues, anxiety, eating disorders, academic struggles, an inferiority complex, and vague mentions of past trauma.  
> Minor Mention of: One-sided Harry/Peter.  
> Harry has a little chat with Daddy while getting ready for the first day of his senior year at Midtown High.
> 
>  **Along Came Petey (a Flashback):**  
>  Characters: Harry & Peter & Norman. Additionally, mentions of Peter's dead parents, Uncle Ben, and Harry's deceased mother.  
> Trigger Warnings for anxiety, father-son tension, and the mentioning of dead parents.  
> The Beginnings of: One-sided Harry/Peter  
> Harry just transferred to Midtown Junior High. He decides to befriend Peter and introduces Pete to his dad.

#### Late Night Longing

Harry lay in bed, unable to sleep. _'_ _This is it. Senior year starts tomorrow.'_   The coming months would perhaps bring about the last chance he'd get to confess his feelings to Pete before they may be forced to part ways. Because _why would Peter even want to keep him around after high school?_ Surely there couldn’t be that many bullies in college, and the proud boy was too stubborn to accept any of Osborn’s cash. Parker would befriend more like-minded nerds and blow everyone away with that big brain of his. Peter barely had any time for Harry _now,_ what with balancing his internship, job and the extra homework in all his advanced courses. Besides that, there’s still Liz Allan and probably many more beautiful women that were sure to start noticing how the Parker boy’s been filling those jeans lately. ‘That  _ass,_ umf.’

Father would be even more sorely tempted to disown Harry if he knew how long his son had been pining away over the clever brunette while being too cowardly to do anything about it. _'Man up,'_   Father would say, _‘take what you want._ Better yet, _earn it. Don’t sit there with your hands in your lap while your would-be paramour is traipsing about town with undeserving hussies.’_

Harry was too terrified to risk their friendship, too afraid of being rejected, and horrified even still by the possibility that maybe Peter would politely refuse and insist that they _just stay friends._ Harry felt as though he would die if he tried to _just be friends_ after offering himself to the other boy. There was so much he wanted to say to his best friend, Harry didn’t know where to begin.

 _‘Oh, hey, Pete, buddy, oh, pal,’_ no. _God, no._

 _‘Yo, Pete, wazzup?’_ Oh, _hell no._ What fucking year is this? At least, it can’t get any _more_ lame than that. This is scraping the bottom of the barrel. Hypotheticals can only get better from here. _But…_ just in case, maybe he’ll skip past the introduction for now and get to the meat of the matter.

‘Peter Benjamin Parker, _I want to keep you in my life for as long as I can._ No, you don’t understand, I mean _, as more than a friend._ Christ _, Pete, I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade. I love you. I might even be_ in love _with you. Maybe it’s just teen hormones, but maybe it’s not. Can we -_ you and I _\- can we just give this a shot?_ We can take things slow _or I can drop my pants right here and now._ I’ll do anything. _Please, just tell me what you want.’_

Much as it pained Harry to admit it, he wasn't above groveling for affection. He would beg and plead with Peter Parker just to give him the chance if he had to. _‘What would it take to bribe the boy?’_ When they became friends, Peter always insisted that he didn't want any of Harry's money - despite the Parker family's persistent financial troubles. But Father always said that everyone has their price, and he’s so rarely wrong about anything.

If he could get Peter alone long enough, maybe he’d be able to demonstrate his value. Harry was a very generous lover, surely he could please Petey just as well as any girl. If his tongue and throat and ass weren’t enough to satisfy Pete, _fuck,_ Harry was almost prepared to make a new hole in his own skull.

 _‘No. Not going there. Not now, not over something as petty as a schoolboy crush.’_ Harry was distressed by his knowledge of the guns in his father’s safe, the desk drawer in the office, and various other places Norman stashed weapons in case of emergencies. The billionaire CEO of OsCorp Industries had many enemies. But all that firepower only served to remind Harry that he posed the biggest danger to himself. _‘Don’t worry,’_ his internal monologue reassured him, _‘you’re too much of a coward to ever pull the trigger.’_

Tears had gathered in Harry’s eyes. He pulled the blankets around himself like a cocoon. Harry worried his bottom lip. All his school supplies were ready, tucked into his bag, waiting next to his desk. His gut still turned with worry. It felt like this could either be the best or worst year of his life. But ‘no _, it couldn’t possibly get worse than what happened in sixth grade. Nothing could be worse than that, right?’_

Harry’s sense of foreboding eventually faded as he fell asleep. The rest of the night was plagued instead by nightmares of forceful hands, screams and laughter echoing against lockers and shower stalls.

####  Waking, Fast Breaking, Feet Dragging

#####  **The Next Morning,**

Harry had changed clothes already three times this morning, now he was considering a fourth. He’d already picked the perfect outfit last night, hoping that he wouldn’t have enough time to second guess it before rushing off to school. Waking up at butt-fuck O’Clock in the early morning from an awful night terror sure messed that plan up.

He’d snuck into the home gym for a quick run to ease the stress and panic lingering from his nightmare and then hit the showers. Deodorant and just a tiny dabble of a sweet smelling perfume did wonders for his confidence. If anyone ever commented that the scent was too feminine, he’d simply imply that it had been transferred to his person by lewd means.

Harry wanted to look good for the first day of senior year, but not like he was trying too hard. Eventually he settled on a pair of black faded jeans, a plain black tee and a dark green hoodie, but not before first combing through the entirety of his closet and cursing at everything. Harry contemplated whether to get breakfast on the go or risk an uncomfortable encounter with his father in the kitchen, all the metaphorical butterflies in his tummy were ruining his appetite, but he’d regret it later if he forwent food entirely.

Steeling himself for the imminent gloom that would accompany breakfast with Daddy, Harry grabbed his bag and trudged into the kitchen. Norman was already seated at the breakfast bar, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. The old man paid him no mind, apparently too absorbed in the article to spare so much as a greeting. Not that Norman ever had to say anything anymore to communicate his disappointment, Harry’s mind easily conjured the insults and mock-encouragement his father would use in attempts to motivate Harry to raise his grades and just _be better, less of an embarrassment to the family name._

Harry prepared himself a bowl of cereal and poured a glass of juice, standing across the counter as he ate, pointedly looking just past his father’s shoulders and nervously considering whether or not to brave conversation and risk the man’s ire by interrupting his intent focus on the paper. Peter Parker’s not the only scientist that the affluent teen hoped to impress this year.

Harry would be turning eighteen in a matter of months, and while he doubted his father would throw him out – it also didn’t seem likely that Norman Osborn would waste much time or effort easing Harry into adulthood. The burden of his future responsibilities was crushing just to think about. Harry Osborn was heir to such great fortune and genius, but had long struggled to even barely acquire a passing grade in half of his classes. Math and sciences, OsCorp’s bread and butter, were among the worst of his failings. It was no wonder that his father did his utmost to pretend Harry didn’t exist.

 _'This year everything will be different. I’ll make things right between us. The past is done, gone, and I won’t let it haunt me any longer.’_ The same empty promise he’d made to himself since the seventh grade started. He swallowed his urge to cry into the bland bowl of mush he was choking down. His night terrors often drove away his appetite. Eating an essentially tasteless meal in the morning became a necessary preference to ensure that he could keep it down.

Harry spared a long glance at the man across from him. Cool, calm, perfectly composed as ever. Even in such a relaxed and domestic setting, Norman Osborn was a man of obvious prominence. The height of elegance and sophistication, domineering in any and every context that he’d ever seen him. This is the prime example of what it meant to be an Osborn, of what Harry was meant to aspire towards. The boy sucked down his orange juice and forced himself to refocus on his mission.

Starting with a quick walk-through of a silly little mental exercise for coping with his trauma, vanquishing his angst in the most absurd ways he could imagine. _‘Priest!me just needs to throw a little holy water around, chant some Latin bullshit, hocus pocus, abracadabra, ba da bing ba da boom, shazam, voilà, I now deem my demons officially exorcised.’_ As ridiculous as it seemed, it was surprisingly effective, even if only temporarily raising his spirits. He felt prepared to carry on, with more practical thoughts that were now only minimally hindered by a little lingering self-doubt.

 _‘I can do this. I know my goal. I just need a plan. Preferably something within the realm of actually maybe feasibly possible. I’m not suddenly going to become a science prodigy or even a genius of hard work. Raising my grades at this point in the game won’t be enough to undo the damage that’s already been done. Like, okay, I’ll try, but realistically I’m not magically going to be able to improve them enough to impress anyone. No, but what I can do is prove that I have initiative. That I can be resourceful, inventive, sneaky and clever.’_ Harry finished his meal and turned towards the sink, continuing to contemplate in more specific terms, _‘First things first, I need to open a dialogue. Establish a line of communication by which I can rely to assess my progress and learn of any special opportunities to prove myself to him.’_

After rinsing his dishes and neatly placing them in the washer, Harry had finally worked up the courage. He cleared his throat, and as Norman glanced up at him, Harry forced himself to broadcast an upbeat attitude, “First day of Senior Year. Do you have time to go out of your way to ride along and drop me off this morning? Give your son a proper send off and all that? Start the year off on a high note with a little father-son bonding.”

Norman paused to consider, obviously not thrilled by the suggestion. Of course, it probably seemed like _such a chore_ to spend a few extra minutes in the car, having to endure his son’s company, never mind how emotionally monumental the occasion would be for Harry. He’d even conversationally framed it as such, because Father was usually just a little bit more accommodating of his requests when Harry verbally acknowledged what a burden he was.

“I suppose I can make time, if it’s that important to you,” Norman folded the paper up and set it aside. Harry was unnerved at unexpectedly gaining his father’s full attention. He tried not to squirm. “Are you going to ask me to hold your hand, too, or will my quiet company be sufficient for this bonding exercise?”

Harry raised his shoulders defensively, trying to shrug off the jab at his fragile masculinity, not that Harry cared to maintain a masculine air beyond what was necessary to garner the accompanying societal advantages. He shook his head, dismissing that tangential thought, “If it’s too much trouble, just forget I asked. But I thought _maybe_ you might like to take this opportunity to share the moment with me. And we might have a chance to talk. Surely, you’re just itching to inform me of all your expectations for this semester.”

His old man raised one flawless eyebrow in his direction. Harry barely resisted the urge to shrink as his father rose to his full height. “I didn’t realize you were so eager to have that conversation.” Norman glanced at his watch, “I just have a few things to prepare before we leave. You can wait by the door, call Emanuel and tell him to have the town car ready.”

Harry did as instructed. Waiting ten long minutes before his father joined him at the elevator.  Ideally, Harry would’ve preferred to have left sooner than this. To have skipped breakfast, neatly avoided any confrontation with his father and found his way to school alone. Then he may have been able to ride the high of excitement, blissed out and hopeful, eager for the opportunity to spend more time with his friends. Alas, he needed to eat and he couldn’t ignore his father as easily as Norman managed to neglect thinking of him.

Besides, he knew Pete wouldn’t be there yet, anyway. Peter was rarely ever early for anything anymore. Always running late, since the tail end of Sophomore year. That totally forgettable field trip to ESU had changed Peter, Harry assumed it had something to do with the boy's eagerness for his future career. Having the opportunity to get a close look at the facilities of a well-funded research lab must’ve been such a thrill for the poor nerd.

Harry would've been bored out of his mind if he hadn't been so preoccupied trying to ignore the tour guide’s attempts to catch his eye. Tall, handsome, athletic, blonde, pre-med student by the name of Eddie Brock, a former upperclassman at one of the private schools Harry had attended. Also, the son of one of OsCorp’s scientists and Harry’s former tutor/babysitter. Harry shuddered, trying to bury the memory of that icy blue stare and replace it with the warm amber brown gaze that accompanied Pete’s brilliant smile.

Peter's passion for science always left Harry feeling both a bit bemused and uncomfortable. The way Harry saw it, Peter was like a kinder, gentler, shorter version of Norman Osborn. Both were quick-witted, intelligent, striking, and, well… maybe Pete was a little less charismatic, but Peter has his own charms, they’re just a lot more goofy than those of his father. But Dad had a big head-start, Peter was still growing.

It wouldn’t be long before gangly little string bean Parker would find his confidence. Just in the little bit of time that Harry’s known him, about five years now, Peter’s made immeasurable progress! He used to be a painfully shy loner, kept to himself and his books, but now Parker has his own little posse of friends - in large part thanks to Harry’s efforts in networking amongst the general populace at Midtown. Peter could approach almost anyone with minimal discomfort these days, with the confidence of being backed up by a couple of the most popular kids in his class.

####  Along Came Petey

#####  **7th Grade Flashback**

Harry thought back to the day he invited Peter out of the rain, to give him a ride home.

They were both twelve. Harry had recently transferred into Midtown Junior High School after getting kicked out of every private school in Manhattan.

Peter was soaking wet, bent over his bike in the pouring rain. The limo pulled to the curb and Harry rolled down his window. "Hey, Parker. Peter Parker, right?"

Pete looked surprised when the car pulled up to the curb, then just confused by the face looking out at him. "Um, yeah?"

"It's me, Harry Osborn." Those doe-eyes stared blankly back at him for a long moment. "You know, from school. Newly transferred." Parker's mouth formed a little 'o' and his eyes finally lit with recognition. "Come on. Get in, we'll give you a ride home." The window rolled back up and the trunk popped open before Parker could respond. So Pete loaded the bike in the back and made a feeble attempt to shake off some of the water before opening the door and sliding in next to his classmate.

"Thanks, Harry, you didn't have to." He smiled in Harry's general direction, but Parker's gaze was heavily distorted through the fog and splashes on his glasses. Peter quickly looked away to rummage around in his bag for a clean microfiber cloth.

Harry welcomed him with a smile and quickly reassured, "It's no problem," before turning to face the imposing figure seated across from them, "Dad, this is the kid I told you about. The one who's always getting beaten up." Parker winced at that description.

"It seems you could use some friends, Peter." There was a warmth in Norman's voice that Harry recognized from many conversations he'd listened to over the years. It was friendly, inviting, but patently false in its sincerity. His father could assume that tone around anyone, at the drop of a hat, and just as quickly turn around and stab that same person in the back. Metaphorically, at least, although he had definitely wondered if it would be just as easy for Norman to do so in a more literal fashion.

"That'd be cool," Parker had quietly agreed. He absently picked at one of the straps on the bag in his lap, having finished cleaning his glasses and already tucked the cloth back inside. Parker tried very hard to at least look in Mr. Osborn's general direction, but it seemed difficult for poor, painfully-shy Petey to maintain eye contact for very long.

Norman masked his annoyance so well that Harry barely noticed the tightness in his father’s jaw through the man’s forced smile, "And perhaps you'll be a friend to my Harry, help him keep his mind on his studies." The remark may not have been obviously cutting, but Harry was very well accustomed to noticing every subtle taunt his father directed at his academic failings.

In the company of his unassuming classmate, Harry forgot himself for a moment and audibly grumbled, _"Ugh,_ I wish you would stop micromanaging my life." He regretted it before he’d even finished speaking, but he already felt committed to his role as the angsty pre-teen. Harry crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the window and sulked.

Norman's eyes had lost any humor, narrowing in his son's direction. "Give me reasons not to." His voice was stern. Harry tried to attribute the shiver he felt to some sort of sympathetic response. Yes, just empathy for the cold, wet boy next to him was to blame. It was too uncomfortable to admit that he was afraid of his father’s anger. Norman had never hit him, never caused him any physical harm, so it just didn’t make sense for Harry to be so terrified whenever Norman was upset.

"Uhh, I just met you both, but I think it's great that you have a dad that cares so much." Pete sensed the tension in the air, but was obviously oblivious to the severity of it. Faced away from both of them, Harry felt safe rolling his eyes at the cheesy sentiment. Norman only cared about his legacy. Harry’s health and happiness was secondary at best. More likely merely a tertiary concern to his father. What could Peter possibly even know about it?

"It sounds like you speak from experience,” Norman jumped at the opportunity to engage Peter in conversation as a convenient distraction from his ungrateful son’s sullen mood. Harry was immensely appreciative of Parker's feeble attempt to mitigate on his behalf, or at least momentarily distract Norman's ire. His breathing suddenly seemed easier, a weight off his chest once Norman's attention returned to the wet shivering mass beside him.

"I never knew my parents, sir,” Peter’s admission pulled at Harry’s heartstrings, reminding him of his dearly departed mother, gone before Harry had the chance to know her through more than pictures and vague memories. “But my Uncle Ben busts my butt whenever I get outa line." The way the usually quiet boy’s voice had risen in volume and taken a cheerful turn made Harry smile despite himself.

"And Peter's none the worse for that, is he, Harry?"  Norman's gaze had settled again on him. Harry swore he saw a glare flashing behind the smile that could never quite reach his father's eyes. He tried not to let his own smile melt, choosing to mock-thoughtful reflection by biting his lip to disguise his discomfort. A sideways glance at Parker was met with an encouraging grin from the beautiful amber-eyed boy. It became less difficult to keep his smile when he looked at Peter. But the weight of his father’s stare still bore heavy on Harry.

"N-no, heh," The force of his anxiety returning tempted him to laugh, but Harry restrained himself. "I- I suppose not." The stuttering earned his immediate dismissal, as Norman's attention returned to the Parker boy. Norman was probably too thoroughly disappointed to waste any more energy on Harry, for the moment. The sense of relief paled in comparison to the ache Harry felt somewhere between his heart and his gut - he wasn't sure - his body just hurt.

After that, Peter and Harry had become fast friends. Admittedly, Harry had mostly been after his father's approval at first. He'd noticed the way Peter was harassed by the other kids in school (namely, Flash), but he would have never went out of his way to befriend him if it hadn't been for his father's offhand suggestion of how he could benefit from a friend like Peter. That may be the only time he's ever been truly grateful for one of Norman's cutting remarks.

And he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t occurred to him that maybe, _just maybe,_ if he kept Peter around often enough then some part of the Parker charm or genius would rub off. Maybe at the very least Norman Osborn would take more interest in his son if he knew Harry could attract smart people like Peter to be loyal friends.

Norman respected Peter's intellect, but Peter’s embarrassing sincerity, incessant do-gooder mentality, and really awful puns often earned his annoyance. Meanwhile, Harry was completely enamored with Peter's bad jokes and the embarrassing sincerity of Pete's cheesy affection. Nerdy, awkward Pete always made Harry feel better about himself. Sans the times Norman commented on how far Harry fell short of Pete's academic successes. But Peter never looked down on Harry for that or any other reason, as far as he could tell.

The one and only initial intention had been for Pete to help Harry focus on his studies, absolutely nothing more. He hadn't expected the late night study sessions to be so enjoyable. How could he have possibly anticipated the way that shy little dork could light up all the dark corners in his soul? Just one long look into those beautiful brown eyes and the wicked matching smile, and Harry couldn’t help but to hope that from now on everything would be okay. Life was always better when his best friend was around. Eventually Pete's presence in his life had become an even greater distraction than anything ever before. By the start of Senior Year, Harry’s whole life seemed to have fallen into orbit around stringy little Peter Benjamin Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the last scene looks familiar, that's because I copied a lot of details from an episode of Ultimate Spider-Man, but I still altered quite a bit to better fit with what I had in mind for this story.
> 
> *In case there's any confusion about Harry's suicidal thoughts, that detail is something that I'm incorporating from my personal experience. My understanding is this: suicidal ideation is a reflexive coping mechanism that is actually quite common. Harry doesn't want to kill himself, but he takes comfort in having that possibility available to him. And then he immediately feels guilty for it, because he thinks that even considering it makes him a coward. But not being able to go through with it makes him an even bigger coward. 
> 
> Also, with regards to his thoughts about the _'totally forgettable field trip'_ and how Peter seems different since then... _Well,_ Harry's had this huge crush on Peter for a while, so I figure he's bound to notice some of his friend's subtle changes. And especially with the way that Pete got so busy and didn't have as much time for him. Which is also probably going to turn into another Peter-Norman parallel. They're both busy boys who put their work ahead of Harry.


	3. #Squad Goals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A Car Ride Confrontation:**  
>  Characters: Harry & Norman. Additionally, mentions of Eddie Brock.  
> Trigger Warning for suicidal thoughts, father-son tension, neglect, verbal abuse, anxiety, academic struggles, and super vague mentions of physical violence and past trauma.  
> Harry continues the conversation with Daddy while they ride to school. 
> 
> **#SquadGoals:**  
>  Characters: Harry & Mary Jane & Gwen. Additionally, mentions of Peter.  
> Trigger Warnings for abandonment issues and the mention of a disparaging nickname.  
> Little Hints of: Harry/MJ, Harry/Peter and Gwen/MJ  
> Harry meets up with Gwen and MJ in the cafeteria. 
> 
> **Secret Identities (a Flashback):**  
>  Characters: Peter & Gwen. Additionally, mentions of Doc Ock, The Lizard, Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Liz Allan.  
> Trigger Warnings for mention of Uncle Ben’s death and also one super awkward/embarrassing moment for Petey.  
> Mentions of: Past Peter/Liz and One-sided Peter/Gwen that gets immediately shut down.  
> Gwen confronts Peter with her suspicions.

#### Great Expectations,  
A Car Ride Confrontation

Norman was on a call when he finally joined Harry at the elevator. Always busy. Calls, emails, meetings, experiments, research papers, _work, work, work._ And in the event that he ever had any free time, there were still more important things to attend to. Harry did his best not to obviously sulk as he followed his old man into the elevator. In his effort not to eavesdrop, Harry pointedly kept his eyes on the wall and missed how his father watched him, surreptitiously sparing the boy glances from the corner of his eye.

By the time they made it to the car, Norman had wrapped up the call, but was still preoccupied with checking something on his phone. Once they were finally settled in for the ride, it must’ve taken five whole minutes of silence before Norman slipped the device into his pocket. After a cursory look and a frown over the teen’s slouched posture, Norman stated simply, “You wanted to talk.”

With barely a moment’s hesitation, Harry nodded, quickly jumping into the lines he’d mentally prepared, “This year is going to be different, Dad, _I promise._ No more slacking off. I’m going to hit the books even harder than Pete.” The insistent, hurried words had the opposite of their intended effect. His father scowled. Harry stiffened, pushing himself up in his seat to sit straighter. The teen wished so badly just then that he could know what Norman was _really_ thinking, because every possibility his mind conjured was crushing his soul. _‘Dad has to know that I’m serious this time. Confidence. Must project_ _confidence.’_ Harry clasped his hands in his lap to center himself, taking a slow deep breath to calm his nerves as he forced himself to meet his father’s icy blue eyes.

“So you’ve said, for several years running,” Norman never could resist the urge to remind Harry of his past failures. “I’m not taking your word for it this time.” As his father continued to glower, his tone became more thoughtful. Reflective. “Have I been too lenient?” At this, Harry wanted to snort or guffaw, because _'lenient’_ was not a word he’d ever used to describe the man sitting across from him.

“In an effort to avoid coddling you, perhaps I gave you too much freedom. I wanted for you to be self-sufficient,” Harry’s gaze drifted to stare hard, just over Norman’s shoulder. _'Freedom from what? From love, affection, and guidance?’_ Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from interjecting. “I tried to give you room to grow, but given enough rope you seem destined to hang yourself." That remark _hurt_ beyond measure. "I see now that it’s the absence of boundaries that has led us here. You just don't know what to do with yourself when no one is there to hold your hand.” Norman’s pretend sympathy ended with his statement, the pensive expression melting into  an ugly sneer.

Harry couldn't help but think of the many times he had found himself wishing for something as sweet as death. For various reasons, although more often than not he had imagined suicide merely as a way to express the intensity of his pain rather than simply a means to end it. For as much as he tried to hide his suffering, he secretly yearned to have it acknowledged.

 _'Would Norman Osborn grieve for the loss of his only child? Would anyone really miss him? Dad would finally be forced to notice his absence, to at least confront it at the funeral. In the end, would Norman regret neglecting his son? What about all the times he demeaned Harry for matters as trivial as homework?’_ Harry wasn't ready to answer those questions, and he resented the way his father had so casually alluded to the possibility of his eventual suicide. He didn’t know if his father knew how close that comment hit to home, but he was furious with the implication regardless.

_'And what's so bad about wanting someone to hold my hand? Why should I have to be alone? Every time I've ever tried to get close to Dad, I've come up against a wall. There have always been boundaries on his affection. What more will he deny me?'_

When Harry suggested this talk, he'd imagined this going quite differently. He should've realized, he _should've known_ _better_ , because it was foolish to ever blindly hope for kind treatment from Norman Osborn. His father was not a kind man, he'd known this for years, but _still_ Harry couldn't help but hope that Norman would make an exception _for him_. The father-son relationship had to mean at least _something_ to the older man, because it meant _everything_ to Harry.

“Right, _well_ , seeing as how your hands are always so full, do you expect me to believe that you only intentionally neglected being there for me as a vote of confidence in my ability to raise myself?” Harry’s arrogance had returned, call it a favorite self-defense mechanism against Father’s unrelenting criticism.

“A confidence you never felt compelled to communicate. Where in all the lectures about _how much I disappoint you_ was I meant to get the impression that you ever believed that I could make it on my own?” Harry paused to take a breath, the volume of his voice had raised involuntarily and he needed to dial it back down before the entire talk devolved into shouting. He had tried to mask his rage with a flippant tone, but his accusations were no less fierce for it.

 _“Gosh,_ cuz it’s not like parents have a responsibility to actually guide their children with a little more direction than just barking orders and laying down unreasonable  expectations.” The very moment he had completed this rant, Harry refused to let himself regret it. The urge burned strong to try to take it back, but he would _not_ be cowed by his father’s angry glare.

“Unreasonable, are they? Tell me, Harry, what is so _unreasonable_ about expecting you to do more than the _bare minimum_ to pass your classes? _Hm?”_ Norman paused, one eyebrow raised tauntingly, inviting Harry to think of some way to justify his subpar academic performance.

 _'Ouch. Okay, Dad’s got me there. How can I possibly explain how difficult things have been without actually explaining anything.’_ He gave up trying to stare his father down, swallowing hard. No explanation was forthcoming, so he just sat quietly. His anger withering into shame under Norman’s intense scrutiny.

“You should be making goals for yourself and some real, measurable progress towards success. But instead, just what have you been doing with all your free time, Harry?”

_'I’ve been crying, lurking on forums, trying out all the suggested coping mechanisms, researching self-defense, building a social support network, making friends, and shame-masturbating. I haven’t had the spoons to handle all of my schoolwork by myself, something always seems to remind me of Eddie and I just fall apart. I can’t tell Father any of that.’_

“I - well, _shit,”_ Harry shrugged, “you got me there. I’ve just been wasting all my free time with fucking around,  playing games, socializing and generally living the teenage dream.” Resorting to sarcasm would surely just be digging his hole deeper, but he couldn't help himself out of this one anyway. If he adds enough fuel to the fire, maybe this whole mess will just flame out. _‘Or if I can cool my head and try to at least_ appear reasonable _, maybe there’s a chance I can still save this catastra-fuck. Change of tactics it is, then.’_

 _“I’m only seventeen,_ Dad. My brain’s not fully developed, so I’ve got some issues with impulse control. But I’m telling you that I’m _committed_ to making better choices this year. I just, I struggle to stay focused on my schoolwork.” Admitting to personal weakness is usually just as good as admitting defeat in an argument with Father, but this is just scientific fact. He has to appreciate that, right?

“Perhaps what you need is someone to help hold you accountable and keep your focus where it should be.” Norman looked thoughtful again, considering the options, and it made Harry feel just a little bit queasy. “Your friend Peter has a lot on his plate lately, do I need to arrange for another tutor? Edward Brock has mentioned that his son, Eddie, generously expressed a desire to patch things up,” Norman had no idea what had gone on between the two of them, but Harry’s grades had taken a very sharp decline after the conflict devolved into an on-campus fist fight that had gotten both boys expelled.

In response to hearing Eddie’s name, his son paled, visibly sweating and wringing his hands. Obviously horrified by the suggestion. Norman wondered why, suddenly very curious. There had been other more pressing concerns at the time, so he’d easily dismissed the fight as ordinary adolescent drama brought to extremes by Harry’s poor impulse control. But for Harry to still be so affected after all the time that had passed? Very curious. “You never did say what that fight was about.”

Harry shook off his stupor, vigorously whipping his head side to side, _“Nothing. We fought over nothing. And no,_ that’s _really_ not necessary. If I need the extra help, I can make my own arrangements.”

“You kicked the shit out of each other over nothing?” Norman’s tone was flat, holding only the barest hint of a question, the intonation dominated by an underlying accusation, _'you’re lying to me. Why?’_ The older man’s intense, undivided attention was easily terrifying in this context. As if the force of his gaze alone could tear through Harry’s brain and retrieve whatever answers he sought. Harry had to duck his head and look away to dismiss the ridiculous notion that his father had secretly mastered legilimency.

 _"It was stupid_ , okay?” Harry was beseeching his father to, please, drop the subject. _‘Definitely not okay,’_ Norman decided, furious that Harry was keeping secrets from him. As little as Norman cared about his son’s life, he still liked to keep track of the details he deemed important, and this appeared to be of some import.

“Of course it was, Harry, and you both got expelled for that stupidity.” Norman audibly sighed. His son was distressed, pushing him any further might only cause him to shut down completely and further delay answers. It was time for a subtly lighter touch, “Clearly you’re still affected by what happened. So forgive me if I want to know what’s been bothering my son.” A perfect balance between frustration, exasperation and a not altogether unbelievably benevolent offer of support.

Harry still didn’t want his father to know, but he very suddenly wanted to confess everything. This was as close as his father ever gets to offering comfort. For so long Harry has desperately wanted to be enveloped in the warmth of his father’s arms, to be gently rocked, with soothing circles rubbed into his back, to hear his father’s commanding voice softening to tell him that it wasn't his fault and reassure him that everything would be okay, Eddie would pay for what he'd done. If he would just confess, Harry would no longer find himself lying awake at night worrying that this terrible secret would be discovered. _'It would finally be over.’_

But if his father ever realized all that they'd done together… _‘No.’_ He barely got to spend time with his father now. If Norman knew everything, he'd never want to so much as look at his son ever again. Harry would never see him, he’d either be kicked out onto the street or sent somewhere very far away. He couldn't tell him. _'Not now, not ever.’_ Harry felt as though he would die if Norman ever learned the truth.

“It’s really not worth rehashing. Dad, I just -”   _'Lie, lie, lie, like your life depends on it. He cannot find out.’_ Harry sighed, sounding defeated, “I have no desire to reconnect with Eddie. That bridge is better left burned.”  He worried his bottom lip, struck by the knowledge that his father rarely respected his decisions. Norman could often and easily dismiss Harry’s requests, no matter how humble or desperate. _“And_ \- and I really don't think you should ever entertain the idea of hiring him. Because of reasons,” Harry added, almost as an afterthought, concerned with the possibility that his father might use that as an excuse to arrange for a reunion. He didn’t think Father would be so cruel, but it never did pay to underestimate how ruthless the man could be.  

"Reasons that you won't share with me." Norman’s displeasure was weighing heavy on Harry’s shoulders. This secret wasn’t trivial by any stretch of the imagination, and it was never really going away no matter how hard Harry wished he could just forget. The teen had to strain to keep his shoulders from sinking back into a defensive slouch. _‘Must feign confidence, at least until this is over. Dad can sense weakness and he rarely hesitates to exploit it.’_

“You -” unable to completely swallow the lump in his throat, Harry had to speak around it and hope his voice didn’t sound too choked up, “You really don’t want to know, trust me on this. _Please,_ I don’t want to talk about it.”

Norman Osborn was carefully assessing the boy’s anxious gestures, solidifying his suspicion that it had been a mistake to dismiss this conflict so readily before. As much as it loathed him to admit, he would need to pay closer attention to his son. “What if I took the question to Eddie?”

“He’d tell you lies or insist that you ask me. But I’d prefer to never speak of it ever again. _Please,_ Dad, drop it. Really, it’s so _stupid_ and you don’t really need any more ammunition to drive home the point of what a disappointment I am to you.”

Disgusted and _frankly annoyed_ by the dodge, Norman thought to himself, _‘So the stupid boy has developed a complex.’_ He would not acknowledge or regret how his harsh treatment of Harry was likely to blame for it. _'Whatever had happened, Harry must’ve been complicit in it to some degree, to be this ashamed of it.'_

“The matter is far from settled. I will find out, eventually, whether you tell me or not. But since we’ve nearly arrived, we’ll have to continue this later tonight.” Norman’s statement was punctuated partway by an insistent buzzing. With a small huff of annoyance and a last dismissive glance at his son, Norman retrieved his phone from his pocket. Without looking up, Norman wore his best put-upon look, the face of the exasperated parent nearing the end of their patience, “And do try to compose yourself, Harry. Quit your whining, dry your eyes and resist the urge to punch anyone today. Let’s not start off the school year with _another_ tantrum.”

 _'Oh, fuck off, Father. I don’t need any of this right now.’_ Just as soon as the car came to a complete stop outside the entrance, Harry opened the door. As he stepped out, he turned back to get the last words, “Yeah, _love you too,_ Dad. Don’t work too hard. _Oh,_ and how about you try not inciting any _more_ disgruntled employees or competitors into a life of violent super-criminal behavior? Okay, great, _bye_ _.”_

#### #SquadGoals

#####  **Senior Year Begins,**

Harry had arrived early enough to have half an hour to kill before the first class started, so he quickly tracked down Gwen and MJ finishing their breakfast in the cafeteria. “Peter here yet?” Was the first thing he asked, after greeting them. Gwen gave him a smile and MJ quickly beckoned him to sit next to her so she could wrap an arm around his shoulder. She could always sense when he needed a hug, which was most of the time, so maybe that wasn’t all that impressive.

“No, probably up late chasing Spider-Man again,” Mary Jane shrugged off their friend’s tardiness like it was nothing. She was cool like that, always very go with the flow and forgiving of people’s shortcomings. Harry had gotten to know her even before befriending Peter. She was the most beautiful girl in school, the biggest drama nerd ever, and immediately after transferring to Midtown Junior High he’d made it his personal mission to collect her in his entourage. The original intent had just been to ward off getting dubbed ‘Fairy Osborn’ all over again, but somewhere along the line they’d become besties.

“Actually, we were texting last night and he mentioned having some big news that he wanted to share with all of us in person. Any idea what that's all about?” Gwen asked, a hint of a frown on her face as she watched the way Harry leaned into Mary Jane’s touch and MJ squeezed him tighter.

“Oh, um, no?” There was an awful pit in his stomach at the mention of this. _Big news,_ when does that ever mean anything good? He’d already had such a shitty start to his day, he didn’t dare hope for the best, so he tried to prepare himself for the worst. “He hasn’t said anything to me about much of anything lately. I feel like we’re drifting apart. _He’s been so busy.”_ Okay, that sounded a lot like whining, but he felt entitled to gripe about this at least a little bit.

Luckily, Mary Jane knew how deep his distress over this went, having discussed abandonment issues with him in depth during many of their late night Secret Daddy Issue Club Meetings. “Hey, don’t worry about that, Hare. You know how absent minded Pete can be. I have a feeling we’re all going to have to try harder to make time for each other. This is our _last year_ together at M cubed, we’re all going to end our High School careers on a high note, that’s a promise.”

“You mean right before we all part ways for college?” Harry sought MJ’s hand, reaching across himself to hold it in place where it rested on his arm. He was always so starved for physical affection and Mary Jane was happy to accommodate. _‘Better than therapy. Or I imagine it is. Dad nearly flipped the one time I got up the nerve to suggest seeing a shrink or family therapist.’_  
  
_“Hush._ Don’t you dare speak of that today, Harry Osborn. We’re all going to stay friends forever, you know that. _No matter what happens,_ the four of us are going to be best friends for life. Hashtag Squad Goals.” Harry kicked her under the table and she giggled. Gwen was ineffectual in smothering her grin from across the table, rolling her eyes at the sentiment.

“I hope you know I’m going to hold you to that,” Harry warned, wiggling to bump shoulders and lightly sway in his seat with his bestie.

“Yeah, well, you’d better. I’m not letting you go that easily.” Mary Jane gave him a quick wink before turning her attention to their pretty, wicked smart, blonde friend. “And that goes double for you, Gwen Stacy, don’t think you’re going to ditch us when you run off to some big fancy University.” Mary Jane and Harry both reached across the table to grab at Gwen’s hand, but she swatted them both away.

“How are you both the most envied kids in this school when you’re the biggest dorks ever? I can’t even. _But yes,_ I’m all in with this silliness. Friends for life. Promise.” Harry beamed a thousand watt smile and Mary Jane stuck her tongue out, both immensely pleased with Ms Stacy’s totally official statement. The two drama students exchanged fast cheek kisses before vowing to regroup during lunch, and they all separated so they could mingle with some of their other classmates before the bell rang.

Gwen wore a bittersweet smile as she watched them leave. This group of friends made her life that much more interesting, but also _that much more difficult._ Not even to mention Peter and his Spider-Man antics. She really hoped that he was okay. Since she discovered his dual life, it’d been impossible not to worry about that stupid brave genius. Taking on super-villains _and_ high school _and_ a job to try to help take care of his Aunt. That boy was going to burn out, especially if he kept all this up on his own.

#### Secret Identities

#####  **Flashback to Junior Year**

Gwen came up with the excuse of a ‘study session’ to get Peter Parker alone at his place while Aunt May was away. She dropped her book bag by the coffee table, sat heavily on the couch and stared at him with an intensity that put Pete off balance. _“So…_ did you want anything to drink? A snack before we get started?” He nervously chewed his bottom lip, wondering what this was really about. He had a feeling that he was in for a grueling lecture. Ms Stacy’s speciality, Ms Queen of the Debate Team.

"Peter, _I know.”_   Oh, no, this couldn’t be about _that_. He was just paranoid. Surely there’s some schoolyard mischief that he’d forgotten about after all the chaos in the streets lately. But she had gotten the opportunity to get up and personal with Spidey fairly recently, and she’s very probably a genius in her own right. If he had been nervous before, he was panicked now. _‘Just play it cool, Web-slinger.'_

“You know... what?” He asked, pretending to feign ignorance and innocence of something he really had no clue about. Their drama friends would be so disappointed in his poor effort. Surely she’s just about to accuse him of some stupid prank, thinking he’d been involved in MJ and Harry’s latest mischief, probably. “Exactly what did I do this time? If this is about -” but before he could conjure some stupid story, she gave him _the look_ and the words died on his tongue.

“Spider-Man. Pete, _I know_ you’re Spider-Man.” Her tone left no room for argument. She was completely totally serious and convinced of this fact.

“Wha- what? _No,_ me? How could I - _I couldn’t be._ I’m not -” His rambling denial felt pathetic, even to his own ears.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “And even if I hadn’t been sure before, your face now would just confirm it. _You're Spider-Man_ _.”_ Her matter-of-fact tone dropped off into awestruck. One of her best friends is a Superhero. And they’re both still in high school! How did this even happen? The powers, the costume, _the gaggle of supervillains and gangs out for his blood…_ she had so many questions, but she wasn’t going to get answers if she overwhelmed him with all of them at once. Having him admit the truth would be a start. “I’m not going to go shouting your secret identity from the rooftops, Pete. I haven’t even told my dad. I understand why it’s a secret.”

“I - well, thanks, I would appreciate that, but I am _not_ Spider-Man. I just take the guy’s picture. Why would you even suspect little ole me of something so ridiculous? I don't have time to be playing hero, I’ve still got homework!” Gwen gave him a hard stare. He squirmed. ‘ _So he was going to be difficult then. No matter,’_ she’d come prepared.

With an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, she started in on the accusations, _"Come on, Pete,_ you’re not the kind of guy that would bail on his friends during a crisis. You’re not even the kind of guy that stands down from helping a stranger when it’s the smart move. And yet every time there’s a big emergency, you disappear.” He opened his mouth to object, but she shushed him.

“When the Lizard incident happened, the gene cleanser was _your idea._ You can’t convince me that you ran off to make curfew or because you were scared. And it definitely wasn’t just so you could take that picture and win the contest. The way Spider-Man showed up after you left, that wasn’t a coincidence and it wasn’t his Spider Sense that told him we needed his help.” She was definitely picking up steam.

“You’ve been disappearing _a lot_ lately, whenever any big things go down. Coming back with pictures of Spider-Man and strange bruises. You were never half as clumsy as you’ve been pretending to be - except for those sudden rare acts of extraordinary coordination. _Don’t_ insult my intelligence, Peter. You’re Spider-Man. Do I really need to continue with more specifics?”

Wide eyed, he shook his head, “Wow. You’ve really thought about this.” Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his head and mussing his hair. Finally, he shrugged, “So when did you figure it all out? What really gave me away?”

“When you saved me from Doc Ock’s lab as the whole place was crashing down around us. That’s when all the pieces came together and I couldn’t deny it any longer. I mean, your body type and voice are the same. Maybe a bit muffled and a lot more cocky. But for someone who’s been as close to you as I have, it seemed pretty obvious by that point.”

Peter nodded, leaning forward in his seat and staring at the floor without really seeing it. He needed a moment to take it all in. To absorb the fact that she’d figured it out. That he wasn’t alone in this crazy adventure anymore. “Okay,” he raised his head to meet her eyes, “Okay, so now you know. Wow. It actually feels _so good_ to finally have someone to share this secret with.”

“You haven’t told anyone yet? Not even Aunt May?”

_“Especially not Aunt May."_

“She must suspect that something is up.”

“You’d be surprised. She almost keeps busier than I do. Besides, she already has enough to worry about. Since what happened to Uncle Ben -” his voice unexpectedly broke into a gasp, “ _oh god,_ I - there’s so much I want to tell you. So much that I haven’t been able to tell anyone.” Peter had tears in his eyes. _‘She knows. I can finally really explain what happened, and she’ll understand. I don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.’_

Gwen reached out to hold his hand. “I’m here for you, Peter, I promise, and I’m not going anywhere. There’ll be plenty of time to talk. Just start at the beginning.” She offered him a sad smile and looked around for a kleenex box. By the time Peter had told the story, it was more than half empty and he’d got up from the chair to sit beside Gwen on the couch. She’d welcomed him with a warm embrace and tucked his face into her shoulder as she stroked his hair.  

"I know you’re not going to stop, but, Peter, please be careful. And don't be afraid to ask your friends for help. This is our city too. _Our home._ You're not the only one that feels a powerful responsibility to defend it against thugs and supervillains. Let us do our part. _We want to be there for you,_ you just need to let us.” He murmured assent into her collar. Taking comfort in her warmth and the smell of her hair.

She tightened her grip around him as she continued, “And your life as Peter Parker matters too. Don't _ever_ forget that. You have people that care about you. People that need you to come home safe. So none of that sacrificial hero bullshit if you can help it, you got that?"

“Yes. No reckless self-sacrificial bullshit. _I promise_ , cross my heart and hope to die.” She punched his shoulder and they both surprised themselves with a burst of laughter. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other. Her playing with his hair or rubbing his back. Their schoolwork going ignored for the moment. Lost in their own thoughts, but enjoying the intimacy of the moment. They were both usually so busy, these opportunities came too few and far between.

Before they were friends, they’d had an intense academic rivalry, fighting for the top spot in all their classes, and then somehow Harry and Mary Jane had charmed her into sitting at their table. They’d all become really close, and she’s so smart and pretty. _‘For a supposed genius, I’m such an idiot sometimes.’_

“Um, Gwen? I - I’d been wanting to ask… for - for a while now. Do you - would you like to, um,” this was a disaster, but it was too late to back out now. _‘Just say it.’_ Peter winced, ducked his head and quickly mumbled, “Do you wanna maybe go out with me?” He cleared his voice and subconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. “On a date, I mean,” though judging by the look of horror on Gwen Stacy’s face, that clarification was not necessary.

 _'Oh my god,’_ Pete felt so stupid right then. Somehow he’d just thought - somewhere between saving Gwen’s life and her figuring out his secret - he’d thought maybe there was some chemistry there. Why was this so awkward? _‘I have terribly misjudged this situation, haven’t I?’_

Peter had absolutely no idea how he had ever actually managed to score a date with Liz Allan, and had chalked it up to some kind of miracle that she’d been the one pursuing him. If it had been up to him to do the asking, he was clearly hopeless. _‘She knows Liz and I broke up, right? Who am I kidding, everyone knows, the whole school must’ve heard. What with all the shouting and the way Sally spreads gossip.’_

When he had finally been honest with himself, he admitted that he had only liked Liz because he was so overjoyed by the prospect of actually having a girlfriend, _a hot girlfriend._  But they didn’t really have very much in common, and the whole affair seemed like a whole lot of drama for a lot of awkward and unsatisfying time together with someone who really didn’t understand him or the things he was into. But he and Gwen have so much in common, didn’t they? They share a circle of close friends, they’re both huge nerds, science geeks, and - and _\- why was she looking at him like the very thought of them dating caused so much physical discomfort as to be almost painful?_

“Peter, I like you, as a friend, but I -” he winced, vigorously shaking his head.

“You don’t have to explain, if you don’t want to. I don’t need to know, I mean, if you’re not interested, that’s okay, I totally understand,” his rambling was stopped by frantic shushing noises and Gwen pushing her hand over his mouth.

 _"Peter,_ stop. _Don’t make this weird,_ okay? I’m gay. _I'm only interested in dating girls._ ”

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still undecided on exactly when the Flashback fits into the timeline, but the Lizard Incident and Spider-Man saving her from Doc Ock are events taken from The Spectacular Spider-Man cartoon. And - I'm sorry, not sorry, but I love Gwen's character and did not want to risk her getting killed so I figured making her a lesbian would be the simplest way to remove her from harms way, okay? Also, I loved Gwen & Mary Jane's friendship in Spectacular Spider-Man so I may kind of ship those two together. Just a little bit. Or a lot. I want my entire main cast to be some sort of Queer. So there.


	4. Gwen Ships It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Gwen Stacy: Genius, Friend, Secret Matchmaker?:**  
>  Characters: Gwen, Peter, and Harry. Additionally, mentions of Mary Jane, Liz and Norman.  
> Trigger Warnings for heteronormative assumptions, Harry’s Daddy Issues and fear of abandonment.  
> Hints of _what-might-be-mutual_ Harry/Peter and a little One-sided Gwen/MJ.  
>  Gwen and Peter have an important little chat in the middle of one of their classes. Then Peter meets up with Harry in the hall and awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd appreciate a little feedback about characterizations so far. Please be kind with any criticism, though, because this is my first real attempt at fanfiction and I'm a little bit worried about how well I can do the characters justice when I'm pulling inspiration from multiple sources and my own weird headcanons.

#### Gwen Stacy: Genius, Friend, Secret Matchmaker?

#####  **Also, very  kind of Spidey to finally show up,**

#####  **Late, as usual,**

Peter barely arrived at school in time to make it to first period. He slid into a seat next to Gwen just as the bell rang. After the teacher gave them free reign to choose partners and go over an introductory exercise, he leaned closer to Gwen. “Did I miss anything this morning?” he asked. They had been tasked with identifying and describing the lab equipment and safety protocols, an activity they knew they could complete easily with time to spare.

“Other than the soul crushing look of disappointment when your ‘best friend’ couldn’t find you? No, but you might want to try being early once in awhile, or at least for special occasions,” Gwen told him, with just a hint of warning, “Your bromance with Harry is definitely on the rocks. With how often you’ve been ditching the gang, I think he’s getting insecure. He and MJ are definitely scheming to make our group hangouts a priority this year.”

Peter sighed, “You know I’m not looking for trouble, right? It just finds me! Can you keep running interference?”

“You know I’m not comfortable lying to our friends,” the way Pete’s hopeful expression grew sorrowful was pulling at Gwen’s heart, she couldn’t keep up her stern disapproval in the face of the boy’s massive propensity for guilt. _"I’ll try,_ but you can’t keep -” her tone dropped into a hiss, _"doing this_ -” the accompanying hand gesture was vaguely reminiscent of his _'thwip, thwip'_ pose and made the hero smile despite himself, _"all by yourself._ I’m _worried_ about you, and frankly I have enough to worry about besides. If you get hurt, seriously hurt, I’m going to be devastated, ya know? Thinking that it’s my fault for _enabling_ this madness.”

“You won’t have to worry so much anymore, Gwen, _I promise._ Details will come later.” She looked intrigued, but given the context surrounding this conversation she understood the need to wait for further explanation.

“Hm. Does this have anything to do with the big news you wanted to share in person?” she asked, giving him a sidelong stare with a raised eyebrow.

“It does.” He affirmed. He pushed his sheet a little closer to hers, so they could do a cursory check to confirm that they had all the same answers.

The easy camaraderie she shared with Peter reminded her of Harry and Mary Jane’s affectionate display that morning. Their thespian friends had been nearly attached at the hip ever since Harry transferred into the public school system. While most of the school immediately made the assumption that the two beautiful drama nerds were high school sweethearts destined for either lasting romance or a huge blowout, Gwen had gotten close enough to both students to get a pretty clear understanding of what they really meant to each other. And despite their obvious sexual chemistry, the two were definitely _not_ in it for the long haul. They clung to each other for comfort, always so soft and sweet with one another, but they weren’t lying when they said they were just friends with benefits.

As the eldest child of Captain Stacy, chief of the Manhattan police department, Gwen Stacy always prided herself on her skilled observations. If she wasn’t so invested in scientific research, she would’ve considered investigative reporting or detective work as the next best potential career options to befit her brilliant mind.

Gwen thought back to that morning and how Harry’s first thought was asking after Peter. It hadn’t come as any surprise to her, because he was asking after Peter Parker _a lot_ lately. She'd noticed the way Harry was always protective of Pete before she had even joined their little group, always putting himself between the shy nerd and any danger. Always especially wary around any jock-types and quick to brush off Flash Thompson whenever he so much as looked in Peter’s direction when Harry was around. It had seemed very brotherly, _at first_. But as Parker got more confident, rather than backing off, Harry seemed almost desperate to find a new excuse to stay by Peter’s side. It was lucky Osborn hadn’t figured out Peter’s secret yet, with how preoccupied he’d become with tracking their web slinging friend’s whereabouts.

All these peculiar details made her wonder about her two best male friends. _‘Perhaps I’ve spent too much time browsing slash fanfiction online, because I could swear that these two idiots are about to star in their own tragic love story. The rich, beautiful, overconfident queer boy seducing his shy, plain looking pal that had never even bothered to question his sexuality before… and is also secretly a superhero. Hawt.’_ The thought amused her so much, she couldn’t help but do her own small part to stoke the flames.

She stole a move from MJ and playfully bumped Peter’s knee with her own. “Hey,” she said with a funny grin on her face. Peter was immediately a little bit wary, Gwen rarely made mischief, but whenever she did her schemes were always met with some measure of success. She gestured vaguely, cutting her eyes across the room as if to check for potential eavesdroppers, and then scooted just a little closer. “I think Harry’s got a crush on you,” she told him in a conspiratorial whisper. She wasn’t entirely certain of the claim, but became increasingly convinced of it the more she thought about it. Although, admittedly, it did seem like it may have been only wishful thinking on her part. She might’ve only hoped that Harry was seriously interested in her nerdy friend because it seemed like it would make for a good story. Oh, and also because she couldn’t help but selfishly decide that taking him out of the equation would make it much easier for her to woo Miss Mary Jane Watson.

After a brief pause to look stunned, confused, then incredulous, Peter snorted, “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s with MJ, and _definitely straight.”_ That caused Gwen to frown. She disagreed with that assessment. Her gaydar was rarely wrong. Their theater friends were both definitely probably bisexual. Peter was such a black-and-white thinker about some things, so that possibility likely hadn’t even occurred to him.

She clicked her pen and shook her head. “They keep insisting that they’re _not_ a couple,” Gwen reminded him. To which her friend rolled his eyes, torn between being amused and annoyed with this sorry excuse for gossip. He thought she was just tired of being the token queer and had decided to make a game of rummaging around closets to see who else may be hiding.

Peter bumped Gwen back, under the table, and made his irritation clear through his dismissive tone, “That’s only because they’re both insatiable flirts and pretending to be all ‘casual’ and ‘no strings attached’ or whatever. Have you seen the way they look at each other?”

“Have you seen the way _he_ looks at _you?"_ she pressed on, wanting to call him out on his heteronormative bias, but also not wanting to be distracted from the main point of the argument she’d begun crafting.

Honestly, Peter had never paid enough attention to discrete social cues, so he really had no idea how Harry looked at him. He didn’t even notice the way Liz had been mooning after him until she’d made it abundantly clear by _kissing_ him. Actually, no, he’d still been confused about that, thinking there must’ve been some mistake or wondering if that was a new friend thing that he’d just never heard about before. Oblivious Pete never knew when someone was _into_ him until they’d made a direct, unambiguous statement that left no room for alternative interpretations. Remembering that mischievous glint he’d seen in Gwen’s eye, he thought for sure this was just a stupid prank in the making, so he cleared his mind of this nonsense, shutting it down the best way he knew how. “It’s like you said before, _a bromance._ No homo.”

 _"Ugh,”_ she sounded exactly as disgusted as he had intended, “you know how much I hate that phrase.” She’d just been opening her mouth to bust into that old rant when the teacher very rudely interrupted the conversation with more instructions. With _‘Science!’_ taking back their full attention, they both lost that train of thought. Peter was momentarily relieved for that fact, and very quick to resume focus on schoolwork, but the seed Gwen had planted was equally quick in sprouting roots.

After the bell rang and they’d gathered their things to leave, Peter noticed Harry standing down the hall. When the boy smiled and winked in his direction Peter nearly tripped over his own feet. Gwen’s suggestion had returned unbidden and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been a little too eager to disregard the idea as ridiculous. _‘No, don’t be silly. Gwen's stirring up trouble. Harry’s rich, handsome, popular, even if he was interested in dating men, Harry Osborn would never consider poor, plain, boring Peter Parker to be a suitable match.’_ It disturbed him a little bit when that thought left him feeling disappointed. _‘Besides, even if he was interested,_ I’m not. _So why am I even thinking about this? I like girls.’_ And Peter was very sure of that fact. Girls, girls, girls. Like Liz and Cat and even Ava. That’s what he fancied. _‘Women with boobs and butts and vaginas. Yes, sir, the only penis I ever intend to play with is my own. Err.’_

Parker coughed into his hand, wincing a little in embarrassment, forgetting how the gesture would only bring attention to his awkward internal monologue. _'Harry would never be this obviously weird, no matter how perverted his thoughts, and I really don’t doubt that they can get downright dirty and depraved. No, Harry’s always so smooth, so suave.’_ From this distance it was easy for him to give Harry the once over without obviously checking out his best friend, and he really couldn’t help but admire the affluent teen’s handsome face, his long legs, lean figure, casual demeanor and cool attire. ‘ _H_ _arry is so pretty. I mean, for a boy. Always very clean, soft, stylish and almost totally unconcerned with macho bullshit. I - I guess the term might be metrosexual? Sometimes Harry even smells like a girl._ Wait. _Since when have I started noticing how he smells? Dammit, Gwen.’_ Peter hastily tried to stall this line of thinking as he caught up to where Harry was leaning against the wall waiting for him.

“Hey, Pete!” Harry tried not to sound too excited, he’d had to bodily press himself against the wall to keep from running towards Peter as soon as he saw the other boy. _‘Play it cool,’_ he reminded himself, “I - _We_ couldn’t find you this morning. Didja miss the bus?” Harry suppressed the urge to smack his own forehead. _‘So stupid, so lame. Ugh.’_ Thankfully, Peter was too busy resolutely _not_ looking at his friend’s gorgeous face, so he didn’t notice any of the subtle signs of Harry’s nervousness.

Peter shrugged, eyes downcast, “Something like that.” Definitely not a good time to mention web-slinging or the minor dispute he’d had to step into on the way to school. _‘It’s not as if I want to lie to Harry, but Secret Identities are better kept_ secret _for a reason. Gwen only knows because she figured it out for herself. If I tell him the truth, I might just be putting him in harm’s way and give him even more cause to worry. With the way he’s always tried to be there for me, to protect me from bullies, I know the feeling of being powerless to help in a crisis would crush him. It’s better for both of us if he doesn’t know.’_

They had started walking, Harry wasn’t even sure where they were headed and didn’t particularly care. Although, he really hoped it wasn’t completely aimless, they only had a few minutes to spare before they both needed to hurry to their next class. Trying to discreetly assess his friend’s mood, Harry noted the slight frown and angry furrow between his brows, it seemed as though Peter was contemplating something unpleasant. Hoping to draw Pete out of his troubled thoughts and not wanting to waste their precious time in silence, Harry tried to dial up the Osborn charm, _“So…_ If I suggested you could catch a ride with me in the mornings, are you going to keep objecting that it’s too far out of my way?” He knew that poor, stubborn Petey would refuse the offer out of hand even before he’d finished asking, but he still couldn’t help hoping for that little bit of extra alone time.

“Yup,” Peter was not quite sure whether he should be more annoyed or grateful for the offer. Harry was often very generous. He supposed that he should be happy to have the other boy looking out for him, but it often just reminded him of the large disparity in their upbringing. Harry Osborn’s father was _filthy fucking rich,_ while the Parker family could barely afford to keep a roof over their heads. He didn’t resent Harry for this, but it was still disconcerting whenever Pete confronted the vast differences in their life experiences. It was a little like stepping into a fairytale whenever his wealthy friend invited him over, which was fun but also just _wow._   

“Hmm,” Harry was distracted by the pleasant thought of having Petey all to himself, “You know, I bet I could convince Dad to let you stay in one of the guest rooms at the penthouse.” He’d spoken the words as they occurred to him, and felt mortified just as soon as he realized what he’d said. _‘Oh no, I did not just-’_

Peter was taken aback, “Are you asking me to move in with you just so I won’t be late for class?”

Briefly, Pete thought he saw panic flash across his friend’s face, _“Um, no,_ that would be pretty weird, wouldn’t it?” Harry made a sound that was definitely meant to be a laugh or a chuckle, but barely amounted to either. Thankfully, Peter couldn’t tell the difference between nervous titters and genuine amusement. Harry had to think quickly for a way to play off his impulsive suggestion, it was too strange even for a joke. _'A_ _h, tutoring always makes for a convenient excuse when extra time with Peter is involved.'_ He dropped the humorous tone in favor of some somber pleading, “But I am really going to need your help this year, Pete. I’m anticipating a need for more than a few late night study sessions.” Just as abruptly, he flipped his frown upside down, hastily recovering an air of optimism, “I’ll provide the snacks and car service, it’ll be fun!”

“I’ll try to find the time, Hare, _but -”_

“Ah-ah! _No but’s!_ Please, _I need you, Pete._ " The poor teen tried to blame his hormones for the way his brain processed that plea _completely out of context. 'Dammit Gwen, why'd you have to put that stupid idea in my head?'_ Meanwhile, Harry's excitement had turned a little bit frantic, "If I don’t pull my grades out of the gutter, I might be sleeping there.” He sounded crestfallen. Harry’s quickly changing moods were a bit jarring for Pete. _'Up, down; hot, cold; sad, happy,'_ it was making the hero's head spin more than a round with the Shocker.

 _'It’s still too early to keep up with this. Can’t I just go back to bed?’_ The thought of his warm bed caused Peter to bite back a yawn, _“Jeez._ I know you wanna Major in Drama, but relax. Your dad’s not going to kick you out.” He had _tried_ to sound supportive, but he couldn't entirely keep the annoyance out of his voice. _'Harry must think I'm such an ass right now, but what else am I supposed to say?'_ The tired reassurance had done absolutely nothing to comfort the young Osborn. If anything, he seemed more agitated at having to confront the notion that he might be exaggerating and overreacting.   

 _'No one understands what I have to deal with. ‘Poor little rich kid,’ they all whisper under their breaths, full of sarcasm, even Peter. They all think my life is so easy, that I must be slothful and incompetent to manage to fail so spectacularly when I was born with so many advantages. I must be deficient. Good-for-nothing. Just a pretty face, a vapid personality, and a vacancy sign in place of a brain.’_ But Harry's spiraling self-hatred was so second nature that it didn't even cause him to lose his stride in the conversation.

“You’ve met my dad, right?" Rhetorical question, they'd definitely been introduced, but Peter still needed the reminder that Norman was _not_ the typical sitcom style father figure that could be trusted to generally do right by his family. "Self-made, driven, genius, ruthless dickhead, thinks I’m a huge disappointment," Harry's voice rose in volume and flippancy, _'ringing any bells, Petey, darling?'_ But as he continued, Harry's voice lost any sort of levity, dropping into an all too serious and despairing whisper, "You think he’s going to let me keep mooching off his wealth if I can’t turn things around?"

“Harry. _Seriously._ Chill,” Peter _tried_ to be patient, but he was admittedly still tired and he really worried that his friend was going to become a one-note character if this unhealthy obsession with his father’s approval continued too much longer, “We’ve talked about this before, haven’t we? _Don’t stress, just do your best!"_ the campy, upbeat sentiment earned Peter a grumpy stare, but he could've sworn he'd seen the edge of Harry's mouth twitch with a repressed smile. "Stormin Norman will get over it. Eventually. He’s definitely not going to leave his only child out in the cold, he may be ruthless in business, but he still cares about you.” Harry opened his mouth to object, but Peter pointedly glanced at his watch, “Sorry to cut this short, buddy, but we gotta get to class. We can finish catching up during lunch!” and he dashed off. Harry was left standing slack-jawed and disappointed.

Once Peter had rounded the corner, Harry did an about-face and angrily trudged off to his next class. _'I just can’t do anything right today.’_ Nothing was going as well as he’d hoped. He’d totally fumbled with that awkward reunion, stupidly tried to ask his crush to _move in,_ what even was that? And he still had an awful feeling that Peter’s _big news_ was going to be something terrible. Best of all, he'd gotten distracted _obsessing_ over his father's approval, _again._ He desperately wished he didn't care so much. _'Can't I go five minutes without worrying about what that giant prick is going to think of me?'_ Harry barely made it through the door before his next class started. Not many seats were left, so he was forced to sit in the front row or by a cluster of lug heads wearing lettermans jackets. _'Ugh, perfect, just fucking perfect, way to go, can this day get any worse?'_ the affronted teen scowled, sliding into the front row.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Readers! Yes, you! I want you to know that I *really* enjoy talking about this story and bouncing ideas off of people. So if you're interested, please comment and let me know! I'm open to taking suggestions, although I can't promise that I'll work them into the story. But I like making/sharing rough drafts (essentially, just dialogue and stage directions) of potential scenes for fun even if a lot of them do ultimately get scrapped. So feel free to let me know what you want to see (at least as far as highschool tropes and shenanigans, I have the pairings all pretty well decided by this point).


	5. Romeo & Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Lunch Break:**  
>  Characters: Harry, Peter, Gwen, MJ, Ava and Sam.  
> Trigger Warnings for feelings of paranoia and betrayal.  
> The squad meets up for lunch and they talk about things. Harry has a crush, Peter has some big news to share, and the girls mostly just play a supporting role for the boys' drama. 
> 
> **Team Meeting:**  
>  Characters: Peter, Ava and Sam. Additionally, mentions of Tony Stark, Harry, Norman, Iron Fist, George Stacy, and Maria Hill.  
> Trigger Warnings for moody teenagers and a female character getting stuck playing peacekeeper and killjoy.  
> Nova and White Tiger invite Spider-Man over for a quick team meeting.
> 
>  **Montagues and Capulets:**  
>  Characters: Harry, Peter, Gwen, MJ.  
> Trigger Warnings for mention of pseudo-incest (in reference to Harry/MJ)  
> One-sided Harry/Peter and mention of Harry/MJ.  
> The girls try to fix things between the boys by playing a casting game.
> 
>  **After Lunch:**  
>  Characters: Harry. Additionally, mentions of Peter, Tony Stark, Norman Osborn.  
> Trigger Warnings Brooding.  
> Harry is brooding because his friendship with Peter is being threatened by the big news.

#### Lunch Break

The foursome had all gathered around the same lunch table. Harry and Mary Jane sat together, nearly pressed against one another they were so close, ducking their heads near enough to whisper and giggle obnoxiously, but without the science geeks being able to understand a word of it.

Peter took the seat next to Harry while Gwen sat across from them. Pete jerked his head meaningfully toward the cuddling duo as if to say 'I told you so,’ to Ms Stacy. She rolled her eyes and kicked at MJ’s feet under the table. Mary Jane stuck out her tongue in response, while still intently listening to Harry’s excited whispers. “Oh no, _you didn’t,”_ MJ gasped, covering her face to stifle her laughs.

“Oi! What’s so funny over there, would you two care to share with the rest of the class?” Gwen raised an eyebrow, tilting her head so she could give them a withering look over the top of her glasses. A horrible mimicry of one of their old, cantankerous English professors.

 _"Oh, it's nothing, really,”_ MJ pretended to brush the question off, before deciding to indulge in just a little bit of teasing, “Harry was just telling me about what a fool he acted in front of his crush.” Harry audibly groaned beside her, elbowing her playfully in the side for her betrayal.

“Oh my gosh,” Gwen gave Petey a horrible, _meaningful_ look. “Tell us more!” Peter, in turn, looked suspicious. _'Oh, don’t tell me they’re both in on this, too,’_ he thought, _'the whole gang, conspiring to make me gay for my best friend. There’s no way this ends well for me.’_

“No, shush! MJ, don’t you dare,” Harry warned her, although the plea/threat sounded frantic and theatrical, there was no real fear in it. He knew Mary Jane Watson to be a trustworthy confidant, after many years of telling her his most precious and embarrassing secrets.

“I won’t, I won’t,” MJ promised. “But _you_ should definitely just _make a move_ already. I’m embarrassed for you, honestly,” she sounded so exasperated, while her pretty green eyes twinkled with mirth, “you’re both totally _hopelessly_ in love and you don’t even know it.”

“That is a disgusting over exaggeration. _Osborn's_ are too proud for all that flowery nonsense,” Harry did his best to mock his father’s voice, “Love is _both useless_ and _unrealistic._ A bothersome distraction from more worthwhile pursuits. Only fools and sluts indulge in such absurd fantasies.”

The proclamation had caused Osborn’s face to twist into an uncomfortable expression. His father had never said those words verbatim, but he'd made the sentiment very clear on multiple occasions. Norman Osborn has no interest in love and believes it to be a dangerous waste of time and resources. The old man probably never even would have married if it hadn’t been a condition for accessing his trust before he turned 50. That and the fact that Harry's mother had been independently wealthy, came from old money, from what Harry understood.

“My crush has a nice ass and a great sense of humor, but I’m not about to write bad poetry or carry a boom box outside their window. Back me up here, Pete. Teenage hormones make us say and do crazy things, but should not be equated with _love, of all things,_ when it’s really only about sex. Am I right?”

“You’re obviously in denial. Drop the Osborn brand of tight-assed machismo, we all know for a fact that you love flowery nonsense. You must have it bad for this guy, err, girl,” Peter coughed and cleared his throat, cursing Gwen under his breath. Harry’s mouth opened and closed, not sure if he should identify the correct pronoun or not.

 _'Does Peter know that I’m bisexual?’_ He’d never told Peter before, never put a big effort into hiding it, either, just tried to stay either ambiguous or obviously facetious whenever describing who he was sexually attracted to. He thought Peter would just assume he was straight, like everyone else. On the one hand, he really wanted Peter to know, but on the other hand… he wasn’t ready yet. If Parker realized that Harry might be interested, that could bring him that much closer to being rejected.

It was Gwen that saved the situation, breaking the awkward tension by finally changing the conversation and prodding Peter to spill his big news.

“So, Petey, what’s the big news you teased about last night?” She gestured between the four of them, “The gang’s all here, so spill.”

“Alright, but you may want to brace yourselves,” Peter warned them, rubbing his hands together mischievously. Okay, so he wasn’t actually going to be able to tell them the full epic story, but the cover that they’d cooked up for his hero shenanigans was also pretty damn impressive sounding. _'So all this hype is still completely justified!’_ Pete reassured himself.

“Aight, drinks down then, everyone, we don’t want any spit takes,” They all set their food and drinks aside to give Peter their full attention. “Okay, we’re all ready, let’s hear it!” Mary Jane prompted. Looking excitedly between his assembled friends, Peter’s face broke into a wide grin, looking contemplative for just a moment before he decided where to begin his story.

“Okay, so last spring, I submitted an application for this special grant hoping to get access to a real lab and a head start on my own research projects,” he noticed Gwen’s eyebrows disappear beneath her bangs. Discretely, he winked in her direction, hoping to convey that she would get the full deets later, in private, _“I never said anything about it before,_ because I thought I had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting into this program.”

“But you got in?” Mary Jane sounded excited for him. Gwen was smiling, looking thoughtful, probably puzzling together _what he wasn’t saying_ and putting together her own suspicions as to the true nature of these ‘projects.’ Meanwhile, Harry looked a little constipated? Peter nodded vigorously. Focusing on MJ’s question and trying to ignore the consternation apparent on his best friend’s face.

“I did, and it’s a really amazing opportunity with some _very serious financial backing._ I’m going to get paid for science! I’ll be able to quit the _Bugle,_ get in a bunch of specialized training, and still be able to help support Aunt May.” He finished off with an enthused fist pump and raised a hand for high fives. Gwen generously slapped his palm while Harry just frowned at the gesture. A little miffed at being left hanging, but taking it in stride, Peter leaned back with an accomplished and self satisfied smirk.

“So, wait, what backer is this? Something through ESU?” Harry sounded a little bit concerned. Troubled even. Definitely not happy.

“No, it’s a private company.”

“Did you already sign on? Did you at least have a lawyer go over the paperwork? You may be a science wiz, Pete, but you should be careful. There’s a lot of people that would try to take advantage and steal your ideas. Intellectual property rights can be tricky legal territory.” Harry was dangerously close to rambling and definitely pissing all over Peter’s parade. The hero raised his shoulders defensively and scowled.

“What’s with the third degree? Could you pause for a moment and just be happy for me, Harry? Save the interrogation and the lecture for later.”

“Sorry, I just -” Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead, regretting his inability to play cool. He was probably being over-paranoid anyway, but he was just trying to look out for Pete! “Shit happens, and I’ve heard the horror stories before. People getting screwed out of their whole life’s work,” that did a little to mollify Peter, but not enough for him to completely relax his guard. It was reflexive for Harry to try to look out for his friends and sometimes that meant he overreacted to potential threats. Pete would forgive him for that, eventually. “And I - I just have one more question, okay? Which company have you signed on with?”

“Ah, that’s the best part! _Stark Industries._ ”

Harry blanched. The girls beside him were smiling and offering enthusiastic congratulations, but Harry Osborn wanted to disappear into the floor. _‘Stark Industries, of all the - fucking, Tony Stark got to Petey before I could. But I thought -_ No. _Put the plan on the backburner. Your friend needs you to be supportive right now. Act happy or at least a little less like someone just kicked your puppy.’_

 _“Wow,” that was so weak. Try harder._ “So when you say Stark Industries, do you mean _Stark Industries_ or the Avengers?” Peter frowned, he’d known Gwen would make the connection, but he hadn’t expected Harry to. “Did our local hero finally realize you have more talents than just photography and decide to recruit you to work as a sidekick or something?”

Even though Spider-Man had once saved Harry’s father from the likes of the Vulture, Harry was still far from the Webslinger’s biggest fan. He couldn’t help but resent the wall crawling hero for the way Peter had obsessed over getting his photos for the _Bugle._ He’d wondered more than once how Peter always managed to be there, and whether or not there was more than just a camera between Parker and Spider-Man.

“No, I -” Peter was shaking his head, but promptly forgot whatever he was going to say when he spotted Ava Ayala and Sam Alexander across the room. They were looking right at him. Sam waved and Ava did a little ‘come hither’ gesture. “Um, hold up, I’ll be right back.” He was actually glad for the excuse to get away from a brooding Harry. He had definitely not anticipated how this news would affect their friendship. To be honest, he really hadn't even considered it at all relevant when he decided to accept Stark’s invitation to join the team. _‘It’s a great opportunity for me, so why is my best friend looking at me like I pissed in his orange juice?’_

As Pete walked away, Mary Jane wrapped her arm around Osborn and gave him a little squeeze. “Try to be happy for him,” she said softly, by his ear, barely loud enough for Gwen to hear. Ms Stacy looked concerned, cementing her suspicions about Harry’s crush on Pete.

“Yeah, no, _I am. I’m just_ _so happy_ for Pete,” but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Harry looked miserable, and was taking his frustration out on his food, stabbing at it with a plastic fork. “He applied for a job at OsCorp’s biggest rival, without ever mentioning to me that he was even looking for one outside of the _Bugle!”_ he hissed angrily. He tried to keep quiet, hoping against hope that Peter was too far away to hear any of this over all the loud chatter in the cafeteria.

“I’m sure it’s nothing personal,” Gwen offered. If her suspicions were right, this new ‘job’ was not comparable to any position that OsCorp could potentially offer, but she couldn’t tell Harry about any of that.

MJ joined in with her own reassurances, “Knowing Peter, he probably didn’t say anything to you because he knew you’d have bent over backwards to convince your Dad to set him up at OsCorp.”

“And what would’ve been so wrong about that?” Harry groused, trying very hard to resist the urge to turn and check what had caused his friend to walk away mid sentence. _‘If it’s Liz or some other pretty girl, I’m just going to want to hide in the bathroom and cry for the rest of the day. Better not to look.’_

“Because he’d probably feel like he was taking advantage of your friendship,” Mary Jane tried to explain, but she didn’t fully understand it herself. _Now that she stopped to think about it,_ it did seem a little bit callous of Peter to sign up with a rival company without even mentioning to Harry that he was looking. Unless there were other reasons that Peter didn’t want to work for OsCorp, reasons that he probably wouldn’t want to mention to the CEO’s son.

Unbeknownst to Harry, the other three members of the squad all agreed that his old man was kind of terrifying. None of them could pinpoint exactly what was so off-putting about Mr. Osborn, he just gave them all the heebie-jeebies. With the way Norman actually seemed to _like_ Peter and openly favored him, praising his intellect in such a way that would obviously mock his own son’s academic struggles -  it was no wonder that Parker didn’t want to work for that asshole.  

 _“So he signs up with the competition instead?”_ Harry’s anger dropped into despondency, “Are we even still friends? It’s getting hard to tell lately.” He’d given up stabbing the food and instead took to just glaring at it. If he wasn’t so scared of withering away and being too weak to defend himself, he might just give up eating entirely. He wasn’t hungry. Frankly, he was in a mood today, and found himself disgusted with the sensation of having anything in his mouth right now.

_“Harry, it’s just a job.”_

“No, _it’s not,”_ he insisted, _“it’s_ _more than that._ He’s been sneaking off, keeping secrets,” Gwen fiddled with her napkin, overwhelmed with guilt for being complicit in Peter’s lies, _“and now_ he’s working with the enemy. So what does that make us? _Best Frenemies?”_ Mary Jane looked to the blonde debate champion for help fighting this losing argument.  

“Or star crossed lovers, perhaps,” Gwen _innocently_ suggested, hoping that would sound sufficiently ridiculous so as to distract from all this glum. As with most of Gwen’s plans, it worked, Harry was smiling. When he realized how _obviously_ that comment had pleased him, he tried in vain to suppress his giddiness at the thought. It was too late, Gwen had definitely already noticed, and Mary Jane already knew about his crush. There’s really no sense in pretending, not while Peter was still preoccupied, anyway.

Harry snorted, “Don’t tell me _you’re getting a Romeo and Juliet vibe off of this? If so,_ I call dibbs on Juliet. She’s the smart one, Romeo’s good with a sword, but such a damned fool.” The girls both grinned, eager to ride this happy turn in the conversation.

#####  **Meanwhile,**

#### Brief Team Meeting

#####  **Featuring: Spider-Man, White Tiger and Nova**

Ava had a professional looking smile, amiable but not overly friendly. “Hey, heard you got into a bit of a scrape this morning.” Peter shrugged.

“It was nothing. Just a couple of hoods getting rowdy. I probably didn’t even need to get involved, but you can never be too careful when civilians are around.”

“Spare us the lecture about great responsibility,” Sam was decidedly unhappy with having to adjust back to normal teenage life. When he got his powers, he thought he’d be done with this BS. Why should a _hero_ have to endure the torture of High School? Couldn’t he just get a GED or something? But Hill and Stark both insisted that he and Ava should go through the motions same as Pete. It was Parker’s fault, he’d made some stupid case for why the social interaction was important. _‘Friends, normal human experiences, perspective, blah blah blah.’_ Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friends, Parker?” he asked, leaning his head to direct Peter’s attention back towards his squad. _‘Since the power of friendship seemed to be the main sticking point for the merits of a formal high school education. Lord knows it’s not the quality of the lessons or teachers.’_

“I will,” Pete hesitated before adding, _“eventually,_ probably, but not today. Things are a little awkward right now.” Ava raised an eyebrow in question and Sam huffed in annoyance. _‘Awkward feels like a bit of an understatement,’_ Pete thought to himself and shrugged again, this time looking a bit sheepish. Under their continued scrutinizing stares, he slouched forward and rubbed the back of his head. “I think it’s been bit of a rough morning for Harry, he’s in a mood. Not the best time for introductions, that’s all, it’s nothing against you guys.”

They both nodded their understanding and Ava asked, “Did you tell them?” Sam was looking a little less heated and a lot more attentive. Neither one trusted Peter to be very good at keeping his cover, _nevermind the fact that he'd protected his own secret identity fairly well for over a year now._ Except, both Gwen and Tony Stark figured it out. And Peter was pretty sure Captain George Stacy was suspicious of him. _But otherwise, he’d managed pretty darn well!_

“About the new job, yeah,” Pete decided it was probably best if he not mention how Harry was taking the news. Stark had already expressed concerns when he found out that Peter was buddy-buddy with Norman Osborn’s son. He guessed there was some sort of rivalry between the two geniuses. _‘Hm, maybe that explains a little of why Harry is so upset.’_  

“Remember to keep the details vague,” Ava reminded him. Peter gave her a look that very clearly said, ‘obviously, duh.’

Nova ever so helpfully added, “We _especially_ don’t want _Osborn_ poking around.”

“Harry’s not a threat,” Peter hissed back quietly, getting peevish at being forced to defend the other boy right now.

“It’s not  _Harry_ we’re concerned with. Tony doesn't trust his father to stay above corporate espionage. Among other allegations," Ava calmly informed him.

Sam was not nearly as diplomatic with expressing his opinions, “Yeah, he’s really got a bug up his ass about you being best friends with Harold. Thinks the kid is probably just as slimy as his dad. _Personally,_ I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“You haven't even met either of them yet,” Peter usually would’ve wanted to defend Harry more aggressively, but he was in no mood after the way Osborn was acting so grumpy just a moment ago.

“Don’t have to. I know a rich brat when I see one. And his dad’s probably a sociopath,” Sam was evidently in no more a charitable mood than Pete. _'Was no one having a good day?’_

“Down boys,” Ava interrupted and waved a hand to break their heated staring contest. “We will be checking in with HQ after school. Hill wants to discuss our training schedule,” Ava told them both. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, wondering why it always seemed to be a female character that got stuck playing the role of peacekeeper and killjoy around a bunch of hotheaded boys. _‘Thankgoodness for Iron Fist’s Zen or else all the masculine posturing on this team would probably drive me insane.’_

“Try not to be late,” Sam grumbled. Very maturely, Peter Parker stuck his tongue out in response and shoved away from their table. Not exactly eager to return to his friends right now, but _sometimes_ Sam really pissed him off. _‘Thankgoodness for Ava Ayala.’_

#####  **Meanwhile,**

#### Montagues and Capulets

Mary Jane was starting to get invested in this silly idea, “If you’re Juliet and Pete’s Romeo, I think I want to be Mercutio. What about you, Gwen?”

Gwen had to think about it for a minute. She remembered the play well enough, but she wasn’t nearly as eager to cast herself in any particular role. “Hm, if Peter is Romeo, then I should really be Mercutio… or perhaps the Friar? As Harry’s closest confidante, you’re obviously in a better position to play the Nurse. You should at least have to choose someone on the Capulet’s team.”

Harry snickered, “Did you both forget that Mercutio dies?”

“Yeah? Oh,” Gwen frowned, “Okay. I guess I’m the Friar then.”

Mary Jane was not too thrilled at having the fun, mercurial character unavailable to her. She’d suggest Rosaline if the girl had any lines whatsoever, because like most boys in the school Peter had most definitely had a crush on her at some point. “Well, I’m not Tybalt, that’s for sure,” was the most that she could decide. She was reluctant to accept the role of the Nurse, but it probably made the most sense.

“Hey,” Gwen said, thoughtfully, “Wasn’t Juliet engaged to somebody else?” A convenient means of testing the waters, _‘just where do Harry and MJ stand, romantically speaking?’_ She looked pointedly at Mary Jane, “That means _somebody_ has to be a rival for Harry’s affections.”

MJ threw her hands in the air, “Okay, fine! I’m the Nurse then.”  With a furtive glance at Harry, “Not that I don’t think you’re great Hare, but -”

“But it’d be like getting engaged to a sibling,” he finished for her.

“Um, weren’t you guys already,” Gwen made a hole with one hand and poked a finger through it repeatedly.

“Haha, _ew,_ yeah, gross,” MJ punched the boy’s shoulder, “Harry, you _kinky mutherfucker.”_

“Ow, it's only _pseudo incest,_ we’re not actually related, so it's not weird.”

“It’s still totally weird,” both girls agreed.

Peter returned to a table full of laughter and finger pointing. “Hey guys, sorry about that,” his apology was met with some strange looks, as everyone suddenly tried to straighten their faces. “So… what are we talking about?” He was very glad for the improved mood, Peter often wondered at the girls' abilities to fix these things.   

Harry decided to ignore the kinky turn and rewind to a more favorable topic. “About our epic star-crossed love affair, apparently,” he put on his best flirtatious smirk, half hoping Peter would notice and half hoping that he would disregard it completely.

Peter rolled his eyes and misunderstood, “You and MJ? That’s hardly -"

“No, dumby,” Gwen interjected, “We’re talking about you and Harry,” she winked at Pete as she said it. “Since you both now have ties to rival companies. Just remember, Romeo and Juliet was a cautionary tale! Don’t go killing yourselves just so you can steal a kiss.”

Peter groaned, “Please tell me I’m not a Capulet.”

“Nope!” MJ was glad to inform him, “Harry already called dibs. You’re a Montague.”

“Ah, so how far along are we with deciding the rest of the cast?” Peter asked.

“Not very,” Harry explained. They didn’t have much time left before lunch ended. Everyone else would probably all forget this whole thing by tomorrow, but it was fun to imagine for a little while. _‘Peter as my Romeo, I his Juliet. Both destined for tragedy.’_ Well, perhaps it was more bittersweet than anything else. But the story was of a very intense torrid love affair and he could hardly imagine a scenario in which he ever found happiness that wasn’t still tinged with grief, so it still seemed a most appropriate fantasy.

When finally they all had to return to classes, they promised to meet up again later.

#### After Lunch

Harry’s teacher was phoning it in by having the class watch a lame ass documentary, which he gave up paying attention to after five minutes. The Seriously Dull Voice Over Narrator Guy was nearly lulling him to sleep. It was _so boring_ and Harry was so tired. This day was taking a heavy mental and emotional toll. Several teachers had even broken the cardinal rule about not assigning homework on the first day of classes.

Harry’s mind drifted back to the lunch conversation. As much as the _Romeo and Juliet_ casting game had been fun and distracting, it was overshadowed by the ‘big news’ that still weighed heavy on his mind. Peter’s working for Tony Stark now.  

Harry wanted to be happy for his friend, really. It was so petty and selfish for him to get upset over his best friend’s monumental success in landing a dream job before he even finished high school! But Harry still had to wonder, _‘if he needed a lab job, why didn’t Pete come to me? Dad would’ve gladly offered Peter a position at OsCorp, surely, given how much Norman praises the boy’s intellect. But why did he have to go get a job from Tony Stark, of all people?! Stark is, okay, so he’s an Avenger. Big superhero and tech genius, of course Peter must be star-struck. How can I even hope to compete with that?’_

Eventually, he just had to admit that this really was a wonderful opportunity for Peter. Harry should definitely be happy for him. But he could already anticipate the tension this would cause. _Dammit,_ last year Norman had even expressed an interest in mentoring Parker and now Peter was saddling up with OsCorp’s largest competitor and Norman Osborn’s personal rival! This spelled trouble.  

And Harry’s potential usefulness for recruiting brilliant minds took a big hit if he couldn’t even convince his _best friend_ to sign on with OsCorp.

Harry took a slow, deep breath, thinking to himself, _'Okay, I can handle this. Just a minor setback, but I can get this all back on track. If I can weasel a little information about Stark’s current projects, then that could be even more valuable than the loyalty of a promising high school student. And surely there will be other opportunities to lure Parker into the Osborn family.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hey Readers!** Yes, you! I want you to know that I *really* enjoy talking about this story and bouncing ideas off of people. So if you're interested, please comment and let me know! I'm open to taking suggestions, although I can't promise that I'll work them into the story. But I like making/sharing rough drafts (essentially, just dialogue and stage directions) of potential scenes for fun even if a lot of them do ultimately get scrapped. So feel free to let me know what you want to see!


	6. Rich & Nerdy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The Bad Day That Just Would Not End:**  
>  Characters: Harry and Peter  
> Fifth period, second to last class for the day, and Harry is exhausted. Peter cheers him up just by sitting next to him.
> 
>  **Best Frenemies for Life:**  
>  Characters: Harry and Peter. Additionally, mentions of Norman Osborn and Tony Stark.  
> The boys discuss Peter's new job and why Harry is really bothered by it.
> 
>  **Rich & Nerdy:**  
> Characters: Peter. Additionally, he thinks about Harry and Gwen.  
> Trigger Warnings for stubborn heterosexual Peter Parker.  
> Hints of _possibly-maybe-mutual_ Peter/Harry.  
>  Peter has some free time to ponder things during his last class for the day and his mind drifts back to Gwen's theory. He thinks about his friendship with Harry and why they could never be a couple.  
>    
>  **Bullies, Burgers and Homework (a Flashback):**  
>  Characters: Harry, Peter, Flash, two of Flash’s “flunkies,” and Aunt May. Additionally, mentions of Norman and Gwen.  
> Trigger Warnings for grade school bullies and Flash's abusive father is mentioned.  
> Seventh Grade, Harry befriends Peter, Flash is an asshole, and Aunt May is a saint.

#### The Bad Day That Just Would Not End

 _'Seriously, longest day ever. I just want to go back to bed.'_ Fifth period was about to begin and Harry Osborn was already _exhausted. ‘Just English and Gym left, and then I can go home and sleep.’_ Harry folded his arms into a makeshift pillow, closed his eyes and waited for the bell to ring. He had just started to drift off a bit when a finger tapping his shoulder woke him up.

Harry flinched so hard that he almost fell out of his seat. “Woah, it’s just me,” Harry heard his friend say, and the tired teen hurriedly wiped the gathering sleep from his eyes as he turned to face Peter.

“Hey, so we actually do share one class this semester?” Harry was ecstatic. Research & Debate was his strongest subject and this particular class would give him opportunities to show off his talents in front of Parker!

“Nah, just thought I’d stop by to say hi,” Peter laughed at the way his friend’s face fell. “Just kidding,” Parker took the seat next to Harry.

“Jerk,” Harry grumbled and punched Peter’s shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the bell chose that moment to interrupt. As the lesson started, Harry couldn't help but notice that he suddenly had a lot more energy. Thank the universe for small favors.

#### Best Frenemies For Life

#####  **As Class Was Letting Out,**

They were both gathering their things to head for their last class and Harry jumped on the opportunity to use their passing time to apologize for his earlier shit show.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry’s voice was appropriately low and full of regret, “about this new job, you working for Stark. I could’ve handled that, well, better.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Peter acknowledged, his tone came out a little more harsh than he intended. It sounded like Harry was trying to apologize, that’s gotta be hard enough without Peter blowing him off on top of it. Parker threw an arm around his buddy’s shoulder as they headed for the door. Harry leaned into the touch almost immediately and the contact earned a tentative smile from both moody teens.

 _"I am happy for you,_ but I just don’t want anything bad to happen. Ya know, when things sound too good to be true, there’s usually an ugly ulterior motive lurking somewhere. Call me paranoid, but I know the tech business is full of cutthroat bastards. _I live with one,_ in case you forgot.”

“I had not forgotten, no. But I am perfectly capable of looking out for my own best interests, ya know? I’m a little peeved that you don’t have more faith in my judgement.” Peter was looking at him reproachfully, a brow raised in silent question, _'is there any other reason you’re so upset about this?’_

Harry rubbed at his own face, and tried to think of a way to fix this. _'Sometimes Peter is just really too naive and trusting for his own good. I love that about him, but if he doesn’t acknowledge his own limitations he’s even more apt to get hurt. It’s Stark I don’t trust. Peter’s a big fucking fanboy, he’s so completely and totally clueless if he doesn't realize that his judgement is going to be compromised by that bias.’_

All the quiet brooding led Pete to believe that there was a whole lot more to this than Harry was saying. The concerns for intellectual property rights and underhanded business tactics was just an excuse to voice his anger. Parker turned around a corner and Harry blindly followed him away from the most heavily congested halls.

Quickly finding a quiet spot, Peter braced himself to seriously address this issue. Best to get this settled before the problem had time to fester. “Are you gonna tell me what this is really about? It honestly never even occurred to me that this might upset you, but I swear you seem more angry than concerned.”

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, and refused to look him in the eye. “Well, I really do worry about you. I think my concerns _are_ still valid, but _you’re right._ It was shitty of me to assume that you couldn’t look after yourself.”

 _“And?_ I know there’s more to it.”

 _“And…"_  with a big sigh, Harry forced himself to raise his head and look his friend in the eye."Pete, if you needed a job, I only told you about _a thousand times_ that you could've come to me. You know my dad would’ve happily set you up with a position at OsCorp.” Harry stopped short of mentioning how excited Norman had been at the prospect of having Parker for a mentee.  _'Fuck, Dad's going to be crushed when he finds out that Peter's signed on with that jerk.'_

“Yeah, I know. I appreciate that, Harry, but -” _'b_ _ut your dad gives me the creeps and I can’t help but cringe at all the bad things that I’ve tied back to OsCorp in some way, shape or form’_ \- “but I wanted to land this job based on my own merits. I’m not taking handouts.”

“And being Spider-Man’s photographer, slash, press agent had _absolutely nothing_ to do with this?”

Peter really didn't like lying to Harry, “Okay, maybe our friendly neighborhood hero might’ve put in a good word for me.”

“And how is that any different from allowing me or my Dad to vouch for you, Pete? You still could’ve gone through the normal interview process.” Osborn’s eyes narrowed. He stared hard at his friends face, trying to make sense of Peter’s defensive posture. There was something about this job that Pete was not saying.

“It’s just - it is _different_ , okay?” Peter blew out a long sigh, “besides this opportunity isn’t directly comparable to anything at OsCorp. It’s difficult to explain, I already signed an NDA, okay? I can’t talk about the specifics, but it’s definitely not the same as any standard lab tech. And there’s _no way_ your dad could’ve offered me anything else without making a special exception for me.”

Nothing Harry said was going to change anything now. This battle was already lost. There’s no way he’d be able to convince Peter to quit. It’s too late to stop this. Harry gave in to reality, all but growling at his friend. _“Ugh,_ fine. _Never mind then._ It’s your life. _It’s your career._ If you want to put your future in the hands of a narcissistic megalomaniac and a loose cannon, _be my guest.”_

“Woah. Hey, wait. Why is this such a big deal? Did you _want_ me to work for your dad?”

"Well, yeah,” Harry said with the same intonation one uses to say 'no duh,’ but then he hedged the obviousness of the remark, _“sort of._ I thought if you worked for OsCorp, we'd have excuses to see more of each other. Having you there would probably have actually helped me to get interested in the business. But with you working for a competitor, _that -_ that just complicates things, and we barely even get to hangout besides."

_‘So that was it then. Gwen was right, he’s feeling insecure in our friendship because I haven’t been making enough time for him lately. Dammit, why is Gwen always right about everything?’_

"No, _hey,"_ Pete put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, held eye contact and smiled as sweetly as ever, "we'll still find time for each other. _Don't worry about it._ I know things are crazy now, but once they settle down," Peter noticed how empty the halls were becoming "We will. Hangout. I promise. Sorry, _but we should really -”_

“Get to class. Yeah, I know,” Harry finished for him. He was reluctant to break away, he just wanted to stay near his friend forever and stare into those amber brown eyes til things got weird and _maybe hopefully even just a little bit_ sexy. Peter's smile faltered, he looked unsure about leaving, so Osborn finally waved a hand dismissively. “We’re cool. _Go._ I’ll catch you later, Romeo." 

Harry stared after Parker's retreating backside for a long moment before slapping himself in the face and confusedly trying to remember where he needed to go.  

#### Rich & Nerdy

Peter’s last class for the day was an advanced mathematics course. The teacher started out with a quick introduction, explaining the syllabus and asking them to perform some review exercises that would not affect their grade, just so that she could gauge roughly where the entire class was at after the long brain drain that they called summer break.

The exercises were simple enough that Parker’s mind had time to wander. He thought about what Gwen had said. He didn't want to believe that Harry could really have a crush on him. _'Because there’s no way he and I could ever be a couple. Even if I did like dick, because he and I just come from entirely different worlds. We get along just fine as friends… or at least we always used to, but it would be like Liz all over again. We have different interests, he’s a social butterfly, I only have a few close friends, mostly prefer to keep to myself, and we’d just never work out.’_ Peter didn’t know why this line of thinking bothered him so much. _‘It’s not as if I want to date my best friend.’_

Peter drummed his fingers on the desk, glaring at his completed work while the rest of the class was still struggling. _'But none of that is necessarily a dealbreaker, is it? Sometimes opposites attract. And while we definitely have a variety of different interests between us, there is some overlap. And even when Harry doesn’t understand the science, he still encourages me to info dump around him because he knows how much it means to me that I can share my excitement with someone.’_ He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered the many different ways in which Harry would subtly invite him to talk in depth about some of the most obscure topics, and Peter often even forgot to worry that he would bore the other boy. Harold would be all smiles, encouraging questions and happy cuddles when Peter let his geek flag fly.  

_'And for as comfortable as Harry seems when he’s making the rounds, chatting up anyone and everyone, that’s more or less a function of what he expects he’ll need to do in his future career. Because I know he really prefers to just hang with our small group of friends. Besides, Harry’s skillful networking is the only reason I ever managed to make as many friends as I have now, and it would definitely come in handy down the line if I ever need help funding future projects.’_

The thought of attending some fancy fundraiser on Harry Osborn’s arm was not as strange as Peter worried it would be. He’d play the role of the shy genius while Harold could easily charm all the well-to-do guests to listen to his spiel, and Osborn would definitely have coached him beforehand to perfect the sales pitch. They’d be an amazing team.

 _‘He and I really do bring out the best in each other. If Harry was a girl, I’d be smitten for sure, but he’s not. And I’m not gay.’_ That assessment left Peter feeling forlorn, because he suddenly realized how much he missed the easy friendship he’d had with Harold. Pete had taken their friendship for granted ever since he’d gotten his powers. _'If Harry had tits and a vagina, if sex and romance had been a possibility between us, there’s no way I would’ve ditched him in favor of wasting time with Liz. Dammit, I’m such a horrible friend.’_ He resolved to fix things between them, whatever it took. If he couldn’t find the time, he’d make some, because he was not going to lose Harry.

And - and he’d have to forget this whole stupid idea of Gwen’s because he was definitely not going to risk their friendship by confronting the other boy about an imaginary crush. Especially when Peter’s own feelings got more and more complicated every time he contemplated the idea. _‘We’re just friends. Best friends, and I fully intend to keep it that way.’_

#### Bullies, Burgers and Homework

#####  **Flashback,**

Seventh grade was off to a rocky start for young Peter Parker. His bike had broken the previous day, he’d been stuck in the rain for so long that he’d definitely caught cold. Luckily, the new kid was kind enough to stop and give him a ride home, but that had led to some really tense and awkward conversation like woah.

Science nerd that he was, he'd been excited to meet _the Norman Osborn,_ but he’d been completely unprepared! Soaking wet, shivering, unable to maintain appropriate amounts of eye contact, and he'd just entirely made himself out to be a sad, foolish pre-teen. Especially since Harry had apparently already told the man about how Peter took regular beatings in school.

At least he'd managed to ace his test in bio, and that had sure been a doozie. He’d heard that more than half the class had failed. His grades were pretty much the only thing in his life that Parker had any control over. Pete loved learning, his professors were all very nice to him, but most of the other kids would call Puny Parker a Teacher’s Pet and presume some sort of favoritism was at play because of it.

Which led to Peter’s one major problem with public school, the cruelty of his bored and angsty classmates. Well, no, make that two problems, because the gross cafeteria food definitely deserves an honorable mention at least. Also, all the sticky gum stuck in some of the most inconvenient places. That’s just so nasty! Peter had gotten it in his hair more than once after hiding under tables and desks while trying to escape bullies.

Speaking of which, Flash Thompson was headed this way right now. The scrawny boy ducked his head and stepped into a dark corner hoping that he could avoid being noticed. No such luck, Flash and two of his football flunkies were already making a straight line towards him. Peter hugged his books to his chest, feeling the tiniest bit safer with some sort of physical barrier between himself and the bigger boys. Not that it would matter, because it was likely they’d just end up scattered all over the floor in a matter of seconds.

“Oh Puny Parker,” there was just a hint of a little sing-song lilt to his tormentor’s voice. “We missed seeing you at lunch. Were you hiding in the bathroom or behind the dumpster today?”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Peter lied, “I just wasn’t hungry,” _actually,_ he just didn’t have any lunch money. He’d brought a bagged lunch, but Kenny Kong had stolen it that morning while another boy distracted Pete with questions about their math homework. “So I was camping out in the library, studying.” Parker felt his back press up against the wall. Flash was nearly standing toe-to-toe while his flunkies flanked both sides and boxed him in. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. _‘What’s it going to be today? Are they going to shove me in a locker? The trash? Drag me into the bathroom for a swirlie?’_

“Hey, Thompson, what’s all the fuss about over here?” someone asked from the other side of jock mountain. Peter didn’t recognize the voice immediately, but it sounded too young to be a teacher. He’d have been grateful for the interruption if he thought it would do any good. No one ever had the balls to stand up to Flash. The fact that this kid was talking to the sports star of Midtown meant he was probably just another lug head looking to join in.

Peter nearly dropped his books when Flash suddenly lunged towards him, but rather than taking a hit to the gut or getting slammed against the wall like he’d expected - he felt one of Thompson’s large arms wrap around his shoulder as the whole group turned to face the interloper. “We were just about to have a little fun at Parker’s expense. Just a little payback for annoying us all with his wimpy know-it-all bullshit.” Peter was surprised to see Harry watching them with a raised brow. He fought the urge to blush, hoping that this wasn’t yet another tale that would get passed along to Mr Osborn. “Were you hoping to join in or what?

Flash and his flunkies were eyeing the boy warily, still uncertain of where Harry Osborn fell in the social network at Midtown. Everyone had heard rumors about the rich new transfer student. Frankly, no one quite knew what to make of the handsome and aloof child. One of Flash’s teammates had already made the mistake of calling Harry a pretty nancy boy and had been promptly knocked on their ass. But it hadn’t been the fall that hurt the idiot’s pride, because Kenny had mentioned catching the loser in the bathroom actually crying because of something Osborn had said. _‘Sticks and stones,’_ Flash was thinking, _‘no way some entitled rich brat is going to scare me off with a little smack talk.’_

Harry’s stare hardened, “I don’t need to displace my life’s frustrations on an innocent bystander. You idiots can’t pass a test, so your solution is to beat on one of the only kids that knows their shit? Brilliant plan, asshats. Nevermind that _it literally does nothing to fix your problem._ You still failed. So you can confirm that you’re bigger and meaner than the boy who is - let’s be honest - probably going to grow up to be richer and smarter than you. Big whoop. We going to start measuring dicks next? Is that your idea of a good time?”

“Hey, you failed with all the rest of us,” Flash accused him, shoving Peter into the Flunkie To His Left. Parker dropped his books, but no one was paying attention to him anymore. “So why are you defending the nerd?” Flash and his pals were moving to surround Osborn. Harry looked unimpressed with their intimidation tactics.

“Cuz it’s not Parker’s fault that our teacher is a vicious harpy that sustains herself on the frustrated tears of youthful morons,” his tone was flat, no-nonsense before it became flippant, “Besides, _I’m_ not so insecure that I can't handle being on bottom once in awhile. It can be a powerful position if you know what you’re doing.”

“Uhh, we aren't talking about grades no more, are we?” Flunkie To His Right sounded confused. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Don’t strain yourself thinking about it, Big Boy,” Harry said dismissively. He squared his shoulders and addressed Flash directly, “If it’s a fight you’re looking for, come at me, bro. Unless you’re too scared to throw a punch at someone that actually knows how to fight back?”

“Ooooh,” one of the flunkies said. That earned the stupid jock a rough shove and a harsh glare from the blonde ringleader.  

“Well? Go ahead and hit me, Flash,” Harry didn’t sound impatient so much as _bored,_ like this whole interaction had devolved from vaguely intriguing to just sad. There was mock sympathy in Harry’s eyes and just a hint of a sneer as he continued the taunt, _“_ Or didn’t your alcoholic shitbag for a Father teach you how to do more than just take a hit?”

Flash Thompson’s fists were closed tightly by his sides, his voice had gone quiet and dangerous as he growled, “Low blow, Osborn, you’re literally asking for it now.”

Harry smiled and it might’ve seemed sweet in any other context. Definitely unconcerned for his own safety. He shrugged, “Yeah, well, a bloody nose and a couple bruises would be well worth seeing your sorry ass kicked off your sports team, asshole, and probably suspended.” The grin widened as he watched Flash process his words, Thompson was starting to look a little pale _and scared._

“I’ll rest easy thinking about how your Daddy is going to pound your ass into the ground for being so stupid.” _And yeah,_ Harry knew that was a mean thing to say, especially since he’d already seen some of the bruises that Eugene tried to hide under long sleeves and a raised collar. He’d noticed the way the bigger boy winced and ducked his head a bit whenever his father was mentioned.

“This isn’t over, _Harold._ Watch your back, cuz I’ll be coming for you,” Flash warned him, but the threat sounded empty to Osborn’s ears. Thompson didn’t have the balls to risk finding out just how much Harry Osborn could fuck up his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s a damn nice view, so I don’t blame you. But you should at least buy me dinner first, Eugene.” Harry winked as he bid the bullies a farewell. Flash and his flunkies were grumbling and stomping their feet as they walked away.

Meanwhile, Peter was on the floor, where he’d hunched down to collect his things and simply forgotten to get up as the whole scene had transformed from a standstill to a heated retreat. He was staring up at Harry, slack jawed and in visible awe.

“Do you need any help with those?” Harry asked, gesturing to the stack of books in Peter’s hands. Parker mutely shook his head and leaned against the wall as he stood up. “Did they hurt you?” Osborn’s question was quiet and sympathetic.

“No. I, um, thanks,” Pete picked at the frayed corner of his math textbook. Feeling far too embarrassed to look the other boy in the eye. “Harry, you really didn’t have to do that.”

Harry shrugged as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. Peter wished he could pull off looking so casual, nonchalant, and just effortlessly hot. “Nah, but those jerks deserve to be taken down a peg. Hey, so I -” he nodded his head towards where the cronies had disappeared, “well, obviously, I heard the rumor about how you totally fucked up the curve in Biology.” Harry seemed to think better of the statement and amended it, “You _and Gwen Stacy._ She's booked pretty solid with all her extracurriculars, so…” Harry hesitated.

He knew he wouldn't have to worry about Puny Parker trying anything funny like Eddie. And even if he did, Harry was confident that he could fight the smaller boy off. Still, the request got stuck in his throat for a moment, he tried to pass the long pause off as embarrassment, reassured that the shy boy probably wouldn’t think too much of it anyway. “Actually, I was hoping you might be interested in tutoring me. Math and science are my kryptonite.”

“I,” Peter was stunned by the hopeful look in those friendly green eyes. He couldn’t very well say _no,_ especially after the Osborns had been kind enough to go out of their own way and give him a ride home yesterday. Not to mention how Harry had just made himself a formidable enemy for Peter’s sake. “Um, sure, I could try to help.” Pete’s smile was weak, but Harry’s answering grin gave Peter a warm feeling that spread through his gut and his chest and _‘dammit,’_ he was definitely blushing.

“Great! You wanna meet at your place or mine?” All trace of worry had left Harry’s mind as he pondered the logistics. Peter had to think about that for a moment. He wasn’t _embarrassed_ of the Parker family’s home, but he knew it would probably pale in comparison to what Osborn was accustom to.

Pete also couldn't help but be initially suspicious of this request. It wouldn’t be the first time a bully had tricked him with an offer of pretend friendship before ripping the rug out from under him, but that standoff with Flash was too elaborate for the dunderheads to have purposefully staged. _Still,_ he had reason to be wary, Harry Osborn had transferred to Midtown with a reputation. Peter had overheard rumors that Harry was expelled from his private school for getting into a fight with a senior varsity football player _and had actually managed to take the larger kid down to the ground._

“My place,” Peter offered, “just give me a chance to call and confirm with my Aunt and Uncle, to make sure it’s okay.” He’d feel safer with some trusted adults close at hand and ready to interfere on his behalf. No sense in taking chances when he didn’t know this boy, he could very well turn out to be worse than Flash.

After that call was taken care of, Harry instructed his chauffeur to stop at a fast food drive thru along the way to the Parker residence. Harry insisted that Peter allow him to buy their meals, because _he was just famished._ “And it’s really no trouble. You’ll be doing me a big favor by helping me raise my grades. The least I can do is feed you.”

“Aunt May will be upset with me for spoiling my dinner.” Pete still felt uncomfortable accepting, but after missing lunch it was really hard to refuse the offer of food.

“Oh, please, Pete, we’re both growing boys. Our stomach’s are bottomless pits. Black holes. I’m sure you'll still have room for whatever she makes, plus seconds.” _And yeah, Harry had a point there._ So they both got chocolate shakes, burgers and fries.

Peter couldn’t resist reenacting the scene from Jumanji, dragging a fry into his mouth in the same manner that a vine had crushed a car in the film. Harry laughed and mimicked him a few times. Norman Osborn would never tolerate this sort of buffoonery from his son. It was always so refreshing whenever Harold got to actually act his age.

Later, as they finally entered the Parker home, Peter got them set up in the living room. Ben was still at work, but Aunt May was very pleased to be able to introduce herself to her nephew’s handsome new friend. “If you boys need anything, just holler, I’ll be in the kitchen. Oh, Harry, will you be staying for dinner?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, I always make extras.”

“Then that sounds wonderful, thank you,” Harry’s smile was warm and sincere. He’d just met May Parker, but he’d already decided that he liked her. Osborn had spend a lot of time and energy practicing to become adept at reading people, a necessary talent for someone of his social standing, and he was fairly certain that this woman was just as generous and good-natured as she initially appeared. Perhaps even more so.

Of course, it helped that she was wearing her scrubs. Harry greatly admired nursing professionals for their patience and dedication. He’d spent a lot of time in the Nurse’s Office at his private school. For mostly minor injuries, many of them feigned or resulting from his anxiety. He anticipated much of the same to happen at Midtown, especially since he'd made the foolish decision to taunt the quarterback and reigning dickbag of the bullies today.

Harry's stomach turned when he thought about the retaliation he might receive. Today Harry had the advantage because Flash wasn't expecting to be challenged, but it was still risky to press his luck by antagonizing the jock. If it came down to a fight, Osborn would be easily overpowered by Flash and his cronies. Befriending an unassuming nerd and working to improve his academic standing might help in fixing his reputation. As long as he played his cards right, he could have the teachers on his side. 

 

Peter suggested that they start with reviewing the last chapter, so he could help explain the concepts that had so utterly alluded most of the class during the last exam. Harry pushed his worries aside for now, and reassumed focus on what he could control _right now._ "Yeah, but I already failed that test, and I doubt the teach is going to let me retake it, so what's the point?"

Parker bit his lip and averted his eyes for a moment, pondering how to word his answer, while Harry crossed his arms and pouted. _"Because..._ many of these concepts are going to be expanded upon in later chapters. Also, _in purely practical terms,_ some of these same questions are definitely going to reappear on the final. Besides, _it's really interesting."_

Harry looked skeptical. "Interesting? _How?"_   Peter Parker's face lit up and the explanation began. _The science itself_ was not enthralling in the least, but watching the shy boy forget to be self conscious as he discussed his passion for and extensive knowledge of the subject? _Priceless._ The nerd was equally delighted by this opportunity. Most of the other kids got annoyed with Peter and berated him for being a 'know-it-all' or just being boorish when he got on a roll, but Harry was kind and attentive as he listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the Scene with Flash... that was really difficult for me. There wasn't much bullying at my schools, at least not that I was aware of? So I had no idea how to write that. So lemme know what you all think of it. So, um, yeah, that Flashback at the end didn't cover everything that I wanted, but I just wanted to get this posted so I could move forward.


	7. When We Were Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **When We Were Young (a Flashback):**  
>  Characters: Harry, Peter, Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Flash Thompson and Norman.  
> Trigger Warnings for mention of Flash being pressured to follow gendered expectations, and Harry’s lonely childhood.  
> One-sided Peter/MJ.  
> Another Seventh Grade Flashback. The squad begins forming as Harry has befriended both Mary Jane and Peter. They reminisce about their childhoods.
> 
>  **A Flash Flashback, Friendly Competition:**  
>  Characters: Harry and Flash. Additionally, mentions of Peter.  
> Trigger Warnings for anxiety, pre-teens talking smack, some lame masculine posturing.  
> The boys try to intimidate one another and come to an agreement of sorts.
> 
>  **The Squad Regroups:**  
>  Characters: Harry, Peter, Mary Jane, Gwen.  
> Hints of Harry/Peter and Harry/Mary Jane.  
> Harry finishes his last class for the day and meets up with the squad for a quick chat.

#### When We Were Young

#####  **7th Grade Flashback**

Last night's study session with Harry had gone surprisingly well. Osborn had been very pleasant, obviously appreciative of Aunt May's cooking, and more considerate than any other study partners Peter had worked with before. Admittedly, Parker had half expected the affluent teen to either threaten or bribe him to do all the work for him, but he had actually paid close attention to Peter's every word.

At first Harry had hesitated to ask for clarification, but during a short study break Aunt May had covertly dropped in and quietly suggested that Pete should prompt Harry to ask more questions. "I think he needs to be reminded that there are no stupid questions. Petey, Honey, you're brilliant, and that can be very intimidating. You make it look easy, but it's not. Let him know that it's okay to struggle, it's all part of the learning process." 

And, yes, Aunt May was right about that. Once Pete began prompting Harry to ask more questions and reassuring him that he wouldn't dismiss any of them or judge him harshly for not intuitively or instantaneously understanding the material, things went a lot smoother. 

By the end of the night, it was a shame to watch him go. But Harry had promised that he would sit with him at lunch today. Which is where Peter was now. Sitting alone and waiting and hoping that the other boy hadn't changed his mind or lied last night. He'd brought a book with to distract himself as he picked at his bagged lunch.

He must've read over the same paragraph a dozen times while he tried to ignore the urge to anxiously search the crowd for Harry. Maybe he could just pretend that Osborn hadn't been able to find him.  _'Dammit.'_ Peter was so sure that Harry must've come to his senses and realized what a mistake it would be to publicly be seen  hanging out with Puny Parker of his own free will. He was so enraptured in fretting over this new and fragile friendship that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Harry call out to him. 

"Hey Pete, have you met Mary Jane?" Harry asked as he took a seat next to Peter on the cafeteria bench.

Parker nervously marked the page in his book and pushed his glasses back up from where they'd slid down his nose before directing his attention to his friend. "MJ? Yeah, her aunt lives next door," Pete smiled at the memory, "We actually used to hangout a lot when we were kids."

"Yup, just up until that tender age when puberty starts to make things awkward, I think." Peter's head jerked around in surprise, he hadn't noticed MJ was behind him until she'd spoken. She smiled at him as she slid into the seat across from the two boys.

"O-oh, hey,” Pete was stuttering and blushing. They’d barely said a word to each other in years, but it felt like an entire lifetime. Mary Jane Watson had grown from gangly little tomboy to - well, they were still _only twelve_ \- so he'd still hesitate to say 'young woman,’ but she took Peter’s breath away. Bright green eyes, long red hair, a little sparkle of glittery pink lip gloss and perfect teeth.

She moved with a grace that often left clumsy, awkward Peter Parker in awe. Mary Jane had a thin and athletic build. She liked to wear form fitting clothes, but always kept an extra layer handy to throw over her top whenever she started to feel self conscious about the way some people stared at her developing chest.

Peter remembered how competitive she could get in gym class, particularly ruthless when it came to dodgeball. She was fast, lithe, a very difficult target to hit _and_ she could throw _really hard._ Peter Parker was in puppy love.

Harry elbowed Peter in the side. Pete rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “I, um, yeah,” he wanted to disappear into the floor, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He was expecting his fluster to earn him derogatory jeers, but Harry squeezed his shoulder and MJ offered him a kind smile.

“Well, if memory serves, I believe it was you, me and Eugene. Always making trouble,” Mary Jane’s voice was filled with fondness and mirth. When she shook her head to emphasize the silliness of her reverie, a little shift in the breeze carried the pleasant strawberry scent of her hair products into the air he breathed. Peter tried not to be distracted by it or the imagined sound of angels singing.

Mary Jane was always so carefree and beautiful. Peter felt so far below her notice, but now she was looking right at him. He didn’t know what to do. _'Just act natural,’_ he told himself, _'and follow Harry’s lead, he always knows what to say. Just focus on Harry and all your nervousness will fade away.’_

"Eugene? You don’t mean -” Harry looked between Mary Jane and Peter for an answer.

That name soured Peter’s mood, but he felt compelled to clarify for Harry’s benefit. "Flash Thompson, _if you can believe it,_ he lives just around the corner from my house."

“And you two actually used to be friends?” both of Osborn’s eyebrows were raised, he looked utterly befuddled by this revelation.  

“Oh, they were the very best of friends!” MJ exclaimed, “I know that must seem hard to imagine now, but Eugene wasn’t always a macho-macho boy. There was actually once a time when I got _both_ of them to play pretend with dolls, pillow forts, toy swords… we were the three little musketeers.”

"Yeah, Mary Jane always wanted to be an actress, but she refused to be a helpless damsel. She’d get her princess costumes full of stains from all the epic battles we would wage in the park."

"Meanwhile, Parker was always fiddling with Lego's, Lincoln logs, those magnetic whatcha-ma-jiggers, and trying to take things apart just to see if he could put them back together. Pete was quite the architect and engineer before he decided he wanted to become a scientist." Mary Jane's voice was a mix of playful, and thoughtful with just a hint of honest admiration. 

Peter's cautious smile had grown to take up half his face, he fiddled with his food and tried not to obviously swoon over Mary Jane's praise.  _'She remembers me, she actually speaks fondly of our time together. But -_   _but she's just nice to everyone. And she's probably playing extra nice for Osborn's benefit right now.'_ But Peter didn't really care if this was genuine or not, because right now it just felt so nice to be acknowledged by his old friend and biggest crush. 

"Yeah, what about Eugene?" Harry only asked in case the information might prove useful. He'd definitely made an enemy in Flash Thompson the other day and he wanted to be as best prepared to handle the consequences of that folly. 

"He was always more interested in sports. Sorta ditched us both as soon as he was old enough to join all the teams and make new friends." MJ frowned, this seemed to be a sore subject for her. “But don’t think too harshly of him for it. I think his dad pressured him into some of it after he caught me painting Flash’s toenails.” The usually unshakable Mary Jane seemed disturbed by this particular memory. “I don’t think Mr Thompson cared much for all of the _theatrics_ and, well,” her shoulders lifted and fell with a dejected sigh, “that was the end of it.”  

Peter seemed upset that they were sympathizing with his bully, but Harry recognized the significance in MJ’s gaze. He could read between the lines to see what she was trying to imply.  _'Theatrics'_ was obviously a code word. Harry wondered if maybe Flash had similar secrets that he needed to keep hidden. 

Guilt gnawed at Harry's gut as he remembered his cruel comments from the other day. He'd basically known that Flash had a poor relationship with his father, based on a few observations, but he hadn't really considered that the man's ire with his son had anything to do with more than failed grades.

All Norman ever seemed to care about was Harry's ability to stay quiet, do his homework and keep a stiff upper lip. Beyond that, Norman rarely pried into Harry's personal affairs. Sure, Norman would raise a brow, roll his eyes or shake his head at some of Harry’s choices in movies, literature, games and fashion, but he rarely commented except to tell Harry to keep some of the more 'shameful’ ones to himself. Or to tell Harry to knock it off and pay more attention to his studies.

But Harry Osborn had heard stories of parents punishing and even abandoning their children over seemingly trivial matters, lifestyle choices that didn’t really hurt anyone but for some mysterious reason faced widespread disapproval. Some would baulk and over react at even the barest _hint_ of a child’s divergence from their expectations. Humanity’s potential for cruelty knew no bounds.

Harry resolved to quietly track down Flash, to try to get him alone so he could properly apologize. Preferably before the other boy had finished plotting his revenge.

Peter fidgeted beside him and Harry decided to divert the conversation from lingering on Flash for Parker's benefit. "That all sounds nice, the friendship you three had," Harry commented, “for as long as it lasted, anyway.” There was a bittersweet smile on Osborn’s face.

Peter was eager to ride the momentum away from Flash. He nudged Harry’s side with his elbow and asked, “Didn’t you ever play those kinds of games?”

“No, I - _well,”_ Harry shook his head, _“No._ I never really had very many friends my own age. I hung out with older kids, tutors,” he winced as he said this, sucking in a steadying breath to mock thoughtfulness as a cover for his pained facial expression, _“and…_ well, I always hesitated to get too close to 'the help’ because Dad wouldn’t hesitate to fire any of them if they screwed something up. No matter how long they’d been with us or how much I liked them.”

Both Miss Watson and Peter Parker were uncertain of how to respond to this. They both came from lower income families. Neither could really relate to what Harry had described. So he waved a dismissive hand, hoping to shrug off the sullen vibe this happy conversation had just been tainted with. A poor attempt at tasteless humor was in order. 

“Who knew being filthy rich would make a person so lonely, eh?” there were frowns all around. _'Okay, so that wasn’t funny. I can either walk that back, pretend I never said anything or double down on the bratty remark.’_ Harry lifted an arm to make a broad gesture between his two poor friends, “You plebeians with your huddled masses couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to live so far above everyone else.”

Mary Jane looked shocked, totally aghast and definitely amused by this awful shameful attempt to avoid discussing his real feelings. She had brought a hand to her chest in mock horror. 

“Should we be insulted?” Peter asked and he looked as though he honestly wasn't sure if he should be offended. 

Harry shook his head, “I meant that to be taken literally, Parker. From the penthouse balcony, you all look like tiny little ants." MJ snorted. Pete kicked him under the table.

"Ow, okay, but really? Forming honest, healthy friendships is extremely difficult when it just seems like everyone wants something from everyone else, usually money. And watching sitcom families is like staring into this bizarre alternate reality _that I guess I’m supposed to relate to?_ But I never really could.” Mary Jane was giving him a pitying look and Peter’s brow was furrowed in concentration.

Harry decided some levity was in order, _“but there’s no need to despair,_ I’ll dry my tears and wipe my ass with cash just because I can.” Peter choked and Mary Jane slapped her forehead. “Seriously, the luxuries are absolutely _indecent,_ you have not _lived_ until you’ve bathed alone in a jacuzzi tub built for twelve. There’s so much leg room, I never even knew what discomfort felt like until I was forced to transfer to this school. _But seriously,_ I’ll have to invite you both over sometime, I promise, the view is well worth all of the shallow and depraved socialites cluttering my little black book.”

Peter had to cover his face with his hands to smother the laughter and embarrasment that was bubbling up in response to those remarks. 

"I think we'd both like to take you up on that offer," Mary Jane confidently spoke for Peter, "so when can we come over?" 

Parker could hear the thumping of his heart in his ears. Had he heard that right? Are they really suggesting that the three of them should all hangout together after school? In Osborn's Penthouse?

"Well, do either of you have plans this weekend?" 

#####  **Later that same day in Seventh Grade,**

#### Friendly Competition 

#####  **A Flash Flashback,**

At the end of the school day, Harry hung around nervously, trying to look busy while he waited for Eugene's friends to wander far enough away that he could catch the jock alone. When the opportunity finally presented itself, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. After a couple deep breaths and one more mental rehearsal of what he planned to say, he made the approach. “Hey, Flash, can we talk?”

“What do you want, Osborn?” Eugene was none too pleased to see him. Flash's back had straightened from his previously slouched position and his chest puffed out a bit. The impulse to mimic the aggressive posture was strong, but Harry willed himself to stay relaxed. Still mostly self-assured, but not forceful or overbearingly so.

“It's just about what happened the other day. What I said,” Harry frowned. This was the most difficult part. To apologize without seeming scared. _'He needs to know that the sentiment is born out of an honest feeling of regret rather than fear for any impending retaliation.'_ Harry kept his squirming to a minimum, hiding his fidgeting fingers up his sleeves, but he still had to force himself to speak through a wince, “I'm sorry.” The very instant the words were out of his mouth he felt monumentally better. “I shouldn’t have brought your dad into it.”

Eugene didn't know what to make of this conversation, so he crossed his arms and stared down at Harold with an expression that looked constipated. _'What's he up to? Is this some sort of rich kid head game?'_ Flash grumbled, "Yeah, _well,_ you're lucky you didn't think to try any _'yo mama'_ crap or I wouldn't have hesitated to smash your pretty face in."

The moment Flash said _'pretty'_ Harry's eyes hardened. "I'll make a note of that for the next time you try to fuck with one of my friends."

 _"Oh,_ so you and Puny Parker are friends now, huh?" Harry didn't like the note of derision in the other boy's tone. His arm tensed with the urge to hit back with a physical blow, but he knew this particular foe would be more vulnerable to a verbal lashing. _'No, back down. Stick with the plan. We want to avoid starting a war with him.'_

 _"His name is Peter Parker,"_ his voice was nearly a growl, it was so low, but he was careful to keep his enunciation of each word impeccable. _"_ And I happen to know the value of having smart friends. You'd be wise to have a similar epiphany. Keep surrounding yourself with such _prime specimens of human intellect,"_  Harry gestured to a trash bin in representation of Flash's entourage. "And your own IQ is going to continually suffer for it, I guarantee.”

 _"What does it even matter to you,_ Osborn?”

"Just back off Pete. Parker’s under my protection now. You mess with him and you mess with me."

"And why should I care?"

"Because there’s really no sense in us being mean to each other. A little friendly competition once in awhile, sure, that won’t hurt, but leave off the unprovoked cruelty. Especially the physical threats and intimidation tactics." Harry's eyes had narrowed and his angry stare sent a chill down Flash's spine. "They don't scare me, Flash. Just really pisses me off, and you don't want to see me when I'm really angry. Sure, I can be reasonable most of the time. See? I’m willing to forgive. But second chances are already difficult to come by. You do not want to press your luck looking for a third, _capisce?”_

Flash snorted, "Yeah, okay, Al Cappuccino," he laughed. Osborn blinked twice before his angry stare melted into amusement. _'Goddamn it, it wasn't even that funny, but it totally threw off my game face. Ugh.'_ Eugene quickly glanced around to be sure that there weren't any eavesdroppers. This skinny little kid had balls, talking tough to someone so much bigger than him, and if he was honest with himself... _Eugene really didn't want to find out how much of this bravado Osborn could back up with action._ "Okay," he said, "Seriously. I won't lay off completely, but we can dial things back. A little friendly competition, you say? I can work with that."

"Good."

_"Fine."_

They were both a little bit confused with how to end this, so they ended up giving each other a firm little nod and walking separate ways.

Harry discretely snuck off to a restroom and threw up.

####  The Squad Regroups 

Harry’s last class period for the day was mostly just taken up with looking over the syllabus, explaining the basic rules involved with use of the equipment and having lockers assigned. He had mixed feelings about signing up for Strength & Conditioning, but the gym credit was a requirement for graduating and it sure beat the other choices. He much preferred to avoid team sports and this was much more solitary and practical in terms of providing health benefits. 

Harry hung back to discuss with his teacher the minor issue of his wanting to avoid the locker room at all costs. She was surprisingly cool with his request, without requiring very much explanation. As long as he got changed into the appropriate gym attire, she didn’t care if it was in the locker room or one of the bathrooms. But when she suggested setting up an appointment with  one of the school therapists to talk about his body insecurities, he politely declined.

Riding high on relief after getting that uncomfortable conversation out of the way, Harry hustled as fast as he could to catch up with his friends before they left. He found them in the cafeteria sitting at their usual table.

“So who’s up for a burger run? My treat," he greeted, hoping to prolong this interaction before he had to go home.  _‘Dad is probably going to want to finish the interrogation from this morning. With any luck, he’ll have gotten so caught up in work that he’s forgotten all about Eddie Brock.'_ He was in no hurry to deal with that, and even though Norman likely wouldn't be there for hours, he knew the worry would eat him alive if he didn't have a friendly face to distract him from thinking about it. 

"Sorry, Hare, gotta get to the labs and finish with orientation," Peter chimed in first. The way Harry's face fell tore at Parker's heart. "Hopefully once things get settled my schedule will become more flexible," he tried to reassure his friend. 

"Yeah, well, you promised we'd find time to hang out and I'm going to hold you to that even if it means I have to visit Stark's labs." Harry's mock anger evaporated, "I'll bring dinner. You gotta eat at some point, right? Maybe I could sit in and do my homework while I wait for you to go on break." -  _'and maybe I can sneak a peek at some of their secret projects.'_

Harry's suggestion made Pete second guess whether or not this was really the best cover story. It would seem cold to tell him he's not welcome there.  _'But the decision would be out of my hands. It's Stark's lab and Harry is the son of a competitor. That still leaves me being associated with the bad guy. Dammit.'_

"I'll have to run that by the boss, Harry, but I'm not so sure the Montague's will take kindly to a Capulet in their castle." 

 _"O Romeo, Romeo,"_ Harry sighed dramatically. Mary Jane's excited grin was a stark contrast to Gwen and Peter's straight faces. "Wherefore art thou Romeo?" Osborn sounded genuinely sad and conflicted, if a tad overdramatic. Peter was suppressing a groan, MJ made an audible squee sound, and Gwen was quietly impressed by his commitment to the role.  _"D_ _eny thy father_ and _refuse thy name_ ; or _if thou wilt not,"_ Harry clutched his hands over his chest.  _"Be but sworn my love and_ _I'll no longer be a Capulet."_ Mary Jane clapped her hands together with glee while the science nerds both rolled their eyes at his performance. To be fair, he'd brushed up a bit on this particular scene just after lunch concluded. He had hoped to capitalize on this gimmick before they'd all forgotten about it. 

"Okay, that's enough," Pete mumbled, raising his hands in a _'please stop'_ gesture. "I'll see ya later, Juliet," Peter turned to Gwen and Mary Jane, bent at the waist and spreading his arms open with a flourish. "Ladies, adieu," he said as he straightened from his bow. Then he made a swift turn and exited stage left. Harry crossed his arms over his chest with a pout.

"He stole my move," Harry complained. The girls giggled and Mary Jane threw an arm around his shoulder.

“Well, I’m free for burgers,” she announced and gave their blonde friend a hopeful look, “Gwen?”

Ms Stacy shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve got to check in with the Connors at ESU, and then there’s some reading that I want to get a head start on before the semester really gets under way. If I can stay ahead of the game, we can plan to have some free time together over the weekend.”

“So maybe the three of us can have a proper girl’s night? Slumber party at Harry’s house!” Mary Jane suggested.

“Yeah, that’ll go over great with my dad. I can just imagine the look on his face if he came home to find me cuddled up on the couch with two of the hottest girls from school.”

“You think he’d flip?” Gwen asked, sounding a little concerned.

“Nah, but I’d probably get another lecture about using protection and being wary of gold-diggers. No offense, MJ, but I’m pretty sure he thinks you're a hussy.”

“None taken, playboy,” MJ shrugged it off. This was an assumption that she frequently encountered.

“What about me?” Gwen asked, although she probably did not want to know.

“He’d probably make a comment about having thought you had more sense than to waste time rutting with a moronic thespian.”

“Ouch. He’s such an ass.”

“Eh, he means well," but Harry didn't sound very convinced of that comment. "Probably,” he added under his breath and Harry shrugged. "Well, then I guess we'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Bye, have fun!" They exchanged smiles and hugs before she left. There were several moments of silence while they waited for Gwen to be completely out of earshot before Mary Jane bumped shoulders with Harry.

 _“So..._ your place or mine, playboy?" MJ flashed him a flirtatious grin.


	8. Thirsty Teenagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A Little Flirtation:**  
>  Characters: Harry, Mary Jane, Emanuel (OC, Harry’s chauffeur). Additionally, mentions of Norman.  
> Trigger Warnings for horny teenagers, kissing, groping.  
> Harry/Mary Jane (Friends With Benefits), a hint of past Harry/Emanuel.  
> MJ and Harry are leaving school, flirting, and there's a brief interaction with Harry's chauffeur, Emanuel.
> 
>  **Strawberry Kisses:**  
>  Characters: Harry and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Peter, Eddie, Harry’s Mystery Crush, Norman.  
> Trigger Warnings for underage drinking, flirtation, angst, kissing, cuddling.  
> Harry/Mary Jane (Just Friends With Benefits!), Heavy on the One-sided Harry/Peter, and introducing One-sided Harry/Mystery Lover.  
> Harry and MJ relax at the penthouse. They have a few drinks and discuss crushes.

#### A Little Flirtation

As they ambled towards the building's exit, Mary Jane hummed thoughtfully, “How about a raincheck on the fast food? I'm craving something a little different.” She was licking her lips provocatively and wiggling her eyebrows.

Harry’s brow raised in response, with a smug grin befitting his spoiled teen persona. _“My, my, Miss Mary Jane Watson,_ just what are you _wanting?"_  His voice was low and playful, and she loved the way he said her name. Everyone else frequently used her initials as a cutesy nickname but Harry always preferred the way both names felt on his tongue. _'Everything about her always tastes so sweet._ Well, _almost everything, but sweet or sour or salty, Miss Watson is always delicious. An amazing combination of flavors, with the perfect amount of spice to keep things hot.’_

She traced her jawline and scratched her chin as if having to think about the question. _“Oh, I guess,_ I’m not really hungry, _but I am so terribly_ _thirsty._ Aren’t you?” He knew exactly what she meant by that.

“Oh, _absolutely parched.”_ He agreed, “Of course, we should hurry home so I can get some fluids in you, _asap.”_ His feigned seriousness fell apart immediately when he saw the exaggerated look of shock on her face.

 _“Jesus,_ Harry, you shouldn't say those things!" She raised a hand to her forehead and made as if ready to stage a fall into his arms. "You’ll make an overdramatic girl like me faint." 

“That’s just the dehydration talking,” Harry said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “Don't worry, if your knees feel weak, you can lean on me.”

“Such a gentleman,” she cooed and snuck a hand into his back pocket to grope some ass.  _"Umf,"_ she said, when he responded by discretely slipping the tips of his fingers under the edges of her shirt where it rode up on her hip. He tugged her softly, she could've easily broken his grip if she had wanted, but instead she yielded under his guiding hand. She was coaxed into standing almost flush against him, chest-to-chest. She leaned in and threw her arms around his shoulders. Smiling, almost kissing, tilting their heads just _so_ they could delight in _the anticipation_ and linger in that delicious _what if_ moment. _'What if this was love? What if this was all I ever wanted? Needed?'_   Harry wanted to stay in that moment for as long as he could, to deny the answers that he knew would contradict and destroy that tantalizing hope for a happy ending.

Both of his thumbs were rubbing circular motions adjacent to her belly button while his fingers curled around her waist. Her skin was _so soft_ and his gentle touch was  _so hot._ She cursed the fact that they were standing in a very public place, just outside the school building, because she wanted to give his hands more territory to roam  _so bad_ just then. Unfortunately, the intimate contact only lasted a couple moments before his hands removed themselves from her skin and smoothed her clothes back into an unruffled state. 

"Our chariot awaits," he declared. While they had been standing there, holding each other, Osborn's ride had pulled up to the curb in front of them. She didn't know just then if she was more glad or disappointed for the interruption. At least this meant they'd soon have more privacy. Harry stepped forward to open the door and the hand still resting on her waist slid to the small of her back to gently guide her to step inside. He followed in right behind her.

The driver that was there to collect them pretended not to notice the delicate way in which Harry touched her or the naked affection in every gesture that passed between them. Emanuel would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit jealous. He’d been hired on and assigned to the boy’s personal security detail shortly after the Vulture incident last year.

He'd expected babysitting and chauffeuring a rich brat to be a total drag, but his interactions with Harry Osborn had actually become the highlights of this job. Harold was a huge flirt. When it was just the two of them, Emanuel couldn’t help but blossom under Harry’s attentions. Seeing him happy with MJ was both a damper on his mood and a relief after the tense ride that morning. He hadn’t eavesdropped, the privacy screen had been in place, but he swore there was a permanent chill in the air around the OsCorp CEO. He certainly didn’t envy Harry for having to deal with that monster on a personal basis, but it wasn’t his place to make any such comments.

“Where to, Mister Osborn?” the forced politeness felt odd but necessary. Emanuel tried to distance himself from the memory of having the boy’s tongue in his mouth. Making out with the horny teenager had been such a stupid mistake. There was only the one incident, but it haunted him.

“Emanuel, _I told you,_ call me Harry when my dad’s not around. Or _'Your Majesty, The Queen'_ if you want to get flippant.” The driver was looking over his shoulder and giving Harry a stern expression, or trying to, because Harold could see the corners of Emanuel’s lips twitch with a repressed smile. “Mary Jane and I are going back to my place.”

“Yes, your Highness, back to the Castle. Right quick. Buckle up, the both of you.” Mary Jane sniggered quietly, not the least concerned with acting lady-like with her present company. Once the high school students had fixed their seat belts into place, Emanuel eased the car into traffic. While they drove back to Osborn’s building, both MJ and Harry recited the tale of _Romeo and Juliet'_ s latest live action adaptation, Modern Day High School AU.

“Don’t tell my dad about any of this.”

“I would never,” Emanuel quickly reassured. And he really wouldn't dare.

#### Strawberry Kisses

Back at the penthouse, they both dropped their bags in the living area and made a beeline for the bar. Much of their arousal had faded during the car ride. They were much less frantic to tear each other's clothes off, their casual physical contact much less heated but nonetheless frequent. Behind the bar, Harry mixed them both a couple of strawberry daiquiris, while MJ played with the stereo. She settled on one of Harry's soft, alternative rock playlists. It was only background noise, to help set the mood and loosen their tongues. They'd always shared an easy comradery, but conversations still seemed to flow much more easily between them when the silences were less, _well,_ silent. Harry garnished their glasses with some fresh strawberries and passed her a glass when she sat across from him.

"Aw, you're always so sweet to me, Cinnamon Roll. Too good, too pure,” she teased him. He winked and set one of the strawberries on his tongue. Sucking on the tip, he slowly angled it in and out, moaning a little as he sunk his teeth in to release more of the flavor and fully saturate his mouth with the juices.  _"Mmmm, perhaps_  that was a poor choice of words. There's certainly nothing  _pure_ about that. But it does look _oh-so_ good," she decided to mimic his behaviors with one of her own berries. 

By the time all the strawberries were gone, they were both thoroughly hot and bothered from all the playful teasing. Eyes still fixated on one another's lips, he leaned over the bar to kiss her chastely. As he pulled away, she briefly contemplated leaping over the counter to join him on the other side. He would look so good shoved up against the wall or pushed down onto the countertop. "Not yet," she wagged a finger at him and spoke over her raised glass, "you can't seduce me so easily, playboy."

"No, of course not," he shook his head, smiling, "It's so much more fun when you make this hard for me." She almost didn't see the way he gestured to his crotch, what with the bar still between them, but she definitely saw him wink. She laughed and stuck her tongue out. They lapsed into a contented silence, smiling and unashamedly staring at one another. Sometimes it was just good fun to share a drink with an attractive friend.

The music drew most of their attention through their first round of drinks. They hummed along, bobbed their heads and swayed with the music while they quietly sipped their drinks. Occasionally commenting on this or that, but then a sad love song put a depressing damper on the blissful atmosphere. Harry tried not to pay any mind to the lyrics, but the words quickly took over the direction of Mary Jane's thoughts. The mood was subtly shifting, they both felt it. _For as much as they loved each other,_ they both knew that the other was yearning for the romantic embrace of someone else.

With a wistful sigh she broke the silence, “Romeo has no idea what he's been missing. All this time he’s just been too focused on Rosaline, his science mistress or perhaps Spider-Man, _hmm._  I'm not sure which makes more sense in our scenario.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, torn between laughing and crying from _frustration._ He had invited her over hoping for a pleasant distraction from Peter, Eddie, Father, all the men in his life. He'd just wanted to melt into the safe, loving, feminine embrace of Mary Jane Watson.

When she noticed the distressed look on his face, she was immediately upset with herself for voicing this issue of discontent rather than filling their sorrow with more meaningless flirtation. But then her sadness suddenly lifted with one happy potential scheme, “We should arrange for a party _or something._ A masquerade! Wouldn't that be funny?” She’d made the comment without really thinking much of it beyond a silly suggestion building on their earlier game. The whole _Romeo & Juliet _schtick was probably going to hang around for a while, like a running gag, until the two boys managed to fully address the building tension between them.

Potential mischief aside, she really had wanted to do her part in reassuring Harry that it’s truly _Peter’s loss_ if he can’t find time for Hare, but then the hilarity of this extended inside joke kept distracting her from remembering the depth of his anguish. She was still pondering the costumes and behind-the-scenes little whispers that might be necessary to provoke that pivotal moment of _Romeo really seeing Juliet for the first time,_ and how utterly adorable it would be to watch them fall madly in love. She was so delighted in this imagined scenario that she didn’t notice the way Harry’s brows had furrowed in deep thought. When he spoke it was with all seriousness,

"Be honest with me, MJ, do you think I have a chance with him?" He'd set his drink down and was watching her curiously. His poker face was good, but she was well practiced in seeing through it. He was in despair, holding on to the barest of threads, and asking her to give him new hope.

Mary Jane savored a long sip of her drink and contemplated her answer carefully. _"Well,_ he's obviously not gay, but I don't think we can rule out the possibility that he's bi- or pan- or just flexible.” She shrugged, “I mean, I don't think he's ever really thought about it, so who knows?" She couldn't quite look Harry in the eye as she said any of this. She stared at the condensation that gathered on her glass. She was holding back the truth. Despite how much fun it was to imagine, she really didn't think Pete was going to bend that way. It was cruel to keep stringing Harry along like this.

 _'It's just that... Harry always seems so much happier when he's able to fantasize about a day when they could be together. I can't take that away from him.'_ Mary Jane couldn't bring herself to crush those dreams. She still hoped that maybe they could find someone else for Harry to fixate on, because she'd grown to like Peter and didn't want their friendship to fall apart over this drama.

Harry sighed, "So you're saying there's a chance, but it's not likely." He frowned, reluctant to drop the subject completely, and reaching for some sort of compromise. "What if it's not sexual? What if he and I were just romantically attracted to one another?"

"Harry -" MJ really didn't like where this was going. She knew how important sex is to Harry, he would never be happy in a romantic relationship without that type of physical intimacy. With a hand on his shoulder, she guided him away from the bar, so they could both sit on the couch together.

 _"No, no._ Hear me out.” He folded his legs Indian style and she did the same, so they could comfortably turn to face each other on the sofa. “Maybe this is more realistic,” his eyes were a little bit wild, this was quickly approaching a ramble, “I mean, he and I have meant a lot to each other over the years. If I can't please him sexually, there's still other things that I could offer him.” His hopeful look was met with a dour expression. He raised a finger to pre-emptively shush her objections as he scrambled for examples.

“He may be a science genius, but he's a damn fool when it comes to emotional and social intelligence. He could benefit from my guidance to find collaborators and to translate his work for the layman, for investors and reporters to understand.” Desperation was painfully obvious in the way he wrung his hands as he talked, not really looking at her, not really looking at anything, and very much lost in his own thoughts.

“I could use my wealth to provide stability and to fund his science experiments." Harry glanced up, still not really seeing her, though he looked straight at her, "You know how much the Parkers have always struggled financially, and it would give him peace of mind if I could make sure Aunt May would be taken care of.” He'd begun carefully examining the backs of his hands. He seemed so certain of this plan. That he could bribe Peter, that if he just offered enough incentives then the other boy would have to fall in love with him, _'or at least pretend to. Peter Parker can't really afford to turn down such a fantastic opportunity, right?'_

“I could even help manage his busy schedule, you know he's a scatterbrain mess about that." Harry finally seemed to remember that she was in front of him, because he was watching her face intently now. "Seriously, we could still be together even if he is straight, right? Right?" The look she was giving him didn't inspire any sort of confidence. He dropped his gaze back to his anxious fingertips. 

Mary Jane’s frown deepened. Clearly, Harry had put a lot of thought into this, and it was just like him to think of relationships in terms of _what people could do_ for each other rather than _how they felt_ about one another.

"Harry," she tried to speak gently. He nearly flinched when he recognized the lack of encouragement in her tone. He didn't want to hear what she would say next, but he knew it would be important. "You'd both be unsatisfied with that sort of arrangement. Your whole world would wind up revolving around him and he would likely feel smothered, especially if you wanted to pursue a long term commitment. Would you be able to handle it when he inevitably wound up having an affair?"

Harry shifted to aim his sour expression over MJ's shoulder. He wasn't ready to face the pity in her eyes.  _'No,'_  he thought,  _'I wouldn't be able to bear seeing or even knowing that he was with someone else. It was hard enough when he was dating Liz, but if we were together while he - No,'_  He refused to admit she was right, not verbally anyhow. He didn’t have to, the disappointment was visible on his face.

MJ put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "There will be plenty of other boys. I think maybe it's time you prepare yourself for the possibility that this won't work with Petey." He swallowed hard and dared to meet her eyes. Her hand slid from his shoulder to cup his cheek and he leaned into the touch. Tilting his head and trying to distract himself from the agony of even considering  _giving up_ _on Petey._ Her pretty smile was small and sad, but her tone was confident. Mary Jane may generally like to think that romance was overrated, but she still managed to understand matters of the heart better than anyone else he knew. Her advice was always sound, even - _and sometimes especially_ \- when it seemed facetious at first glance. 

 _"You're gorgeous, you're funny, you're compassionate, you're an amazing lover,"_  she told him. "Harry, you'll have plenty of other options available to you once you move off Peter." He deeply appreciated her efforts to make him feel better, but the thought of moving on still left him feeling hollow. 

"My dad likes him," Harry admitted. MJ took a deep breath and willed herself not to scream. _'Everything always ties back to Norman Osborn somehow, it's like a curse.'_ After several moments spent trying to school her face to appear patient, helped along by a large gulp of her sweet tasting alcohol, MJ waved her hand in a gesture that encouraged him to continue speaking. "He's mentioned before that he would've liked to have had Peter for a son. Last year he even expressed an interest in mentoring him, ya know?"

"So this is all really about your father's approval." Her voice was absent of judgement. She was just trying to understand.

 _"No._ I really do like Petey, but _yeah..._ I'd be lying if I said that Dad's opinion didn't factor in at all." And he honestly didn't know what mattered more to him anymore. Father's approval or Peter's romantic love; they both seemed equally unlikely right now. But if he could just win over Peter Parker... maybe if Norman could find a worthy heir in Harry's future spouse, then perhaps he would stop being so disappointed that his only son failed to meet his expectations. Maybe then his father would find it in his heart to love him. They could be a happy family, the three of them. Couldn't they? _'Or is this too much hope to hinge on one impossible fantasy?'_

“Harry, darling, I love you,” she interrupted his inner turmoil. Mary Jane touched his face, her thumb tracing over his bottom lip momentarily distracted them from the seriousness of this conversation before she remembered what she needed to say. _“But you have got to get over this adolescent crush._ Peter is a great guy, but _he’s not worth this.”_ Her hand on his face curled to pinch his cheek and gently shake his head. “Forget about Pete.” Harry whined. _“Shush._ We need to find you a new man crush.”

Harry grumbled, but reluctantly agreed. Swatting her hand away, he asked, “Did you have anyone in mind?”

“I was going to ask _you_ that.” She’d taken to rubbing her chin thoughtfully, while Harry got up and started rummaging around for more alcohol. A couple daiquiris was not going to be enough for this conversation. ' _Actually, I still haven't even finished mine,'_ he remembered, and made quick work of drinking what was left in his glass.

“Surely there’s someone else out there that has struck your fancy,” MJ was insisting. She'd turned to watch him from over the back of the couch. He made a noncommittal sound as he grabbed a fresh lime to cut a couple wedges. Harry was debating between fixing another fruity cocktail or just lining up some shots. _'Hm,'_ Or perhaps he ought to be preparing some dinner plans. _'I could throw some frozen appetizers in the oven. Or just grab some snacks to absorb some of this alcohol. It would probably be wise to drink some water between mixed drinks. Stay hydrated.'_ These considerations all made for a perfectly good excuse to ignore Mary Jane's suggestion for now.

The thought of finding someone else to love was repugnant. He wasn't ready to give up on Peter, not yet, no matter how hopeless it seemed. Peter Parker could not be easily replaced. _'We have history. I've already put so much time and effort in trying to warm him up to the idea. Call it a sunken cost,_ _I paid barely just enough attention in Economics to remember that concept. I'm not ready to give up on this investment.'_

“Don't limit yourself to Midtown," Mary Jane was still attempting to shift his focus away from Parker. "You’ve been dragged along to some of your father’s soirees before, haven’t you? Any models or young businessmen catch your attention?” Harry shrugged. Though, at the mention of his _‘father’s soirees’_ there was one person that immediately came to mind. His blood ran hot. Or maybe cold. Either way, _it burned._ Perhaps it was an even more fitting description to say he felt _electrified_ by the barest reference to this shocking, terribly embarrassing, _secret_ infatuation. 

This was not a cute high school crush that he could comfortably share, not even with his most trusted confidant. This was a dark, unwholesome desire that would lay waste to his mind if he let himself entertain the idea for too long. He pretended to have a reason to search the cupboards, attempting to duck his face out of her sight, to hide his shame.

 _“There must be someone else, please, dear god,_ Harry, if I have to hear you drunkenly profess your love for Parker’s tight little ass one more time I think I’m going to hurl.” Against his better judgement, he closed the cupboard doors and turned to face his best friend. Her voice had sounded severe, filled as it was with aggravation, but the expression on her face was soft and pleading. 

“Okay,” Harry admitted, “There is someone else.”

Her face brightened immediately. “Do you know if he’s gay?”

“I am almost definitely sure he's not straight, but the jury is out as to what the fuck his sexuality really is. My general impression was asexual, except I'm pretty sure he might have been banging his male secretary?" Harry threw both hands in the air with an exaggerated shrug. "It doesn’t even matter, because he’s way too old for me. _Among other reasons._ I definitely have a better shot with Pete.” There, he'd played along with her game. He'd acknowledged this awful attraction, and now he should really re-bury these feelings,  _'bury them deep,'_ before he became too entrenched in this forbidden fantasy. 

“No more mentioning _Romeo,_ alright? Not for the rest of the night. Let’s talk about this guy. Who is he?” She wouldn't accept the easy dismissal. Harry really should've known better than to present her with this opportunity. Mary Jane was more curious than a cat. 

“I can’t say," Harry tried to think of some way to successfully avoid giving out any identifying details, "Maybe it’s not even him, specifically, that I find myself attracted to. It’s just a mixture of traits he embodies. It’s not as if I’ve ever gotten the opportunity to really get to know him beyond his public face. _So_ it may even just be this completely imagined personality that I find appealing, like a fictional character that I’ve just transposed onto a real person.”

“Uh-huh, so in other words… I’ve probably met this person and you’re too embarrassed to tell me who it is,” she ended her accusation with a pout.

 _'Damn,’_ Harry shook his head and bit his lip to keep from cursing aloud. She'd seen right through the lie, _'half-truth, I’ve not been completely dishonest. I have seen more of him than the general public, but I still feel as though I hardly know him. The interest he has in his privacy, the vast collection of masks, his talents for wordplay, subterfuge, deception and trickery are all definitely indicative of a secret persona.’_ And Harry could definitely appreciate the need to keep secrets.

Meanwhile, Mary Jane was impatient with his nonresponse. Harry shrugged and belatedly pasted on an expression that would not confirm nor deny her suspicions that she had already met this mystery man.

“Okay, fine, _spoilsport.”_ Mary Jane’s pout turned a little sour and resentful. It wasn’t like Harry to keep secrets from her. They shared everything. _Almost everything._ There was only one subject he ever refused to discuss with her. If she wasn’t feeling a buzz courtesy of the alcohol, then she may have had enough presence of mind to worry about a possible connection. “I’ll figure it out eventually,” she warned him, with an impish grin. “You’re _hardly_ subtle with your affections.”    
  
“Honestly, MJ?" Harry grimaced, "It’s so embarrassing.” Dangling such a juicy, tantalizing piece of gossip in front of Miss Watson had been asking for trouble. She was like a bloodhound perfectly attuned to sensing and chasing down drama. She'd probably pay rapt attention to everything he says or does until she thought she'd pieced together this puzzle.

If he was to keep her from realizing the truth, he'd have to throw her off the trail somehow. Which meant entertaining this line of questioning just a little longer to keep her from digging and reading too much into other clues. He had to satisfy her curiosity without giving everything away. _'Oh, an opportunity to be horribly vague, annoyingly and disgustingly poetic, love drunk and stupid. One of my favorite roles by far.'_

“Tell me about it," she insisted. 

“I’m nothing to him. _Absolutely nothing,"_ he sounded morose. He would've been amused with his own dramatic flair if it hadn't come from an honest feeling of worthlessness in the face of this mysterious crush. 

“Oh, hell no!" She loudly protested, "you’re not nothing. _You’re someone spectacular_ and he just doesn’t know it yet." Then her tone turned incredulous, "Is he blind? Has he never got a good look at you? _You’re absolutely gorgeous.”_ Harry laughed despite himself. It was fun to see her so caught up in this game. If his  _horrid, disgusting lust_ wasn't the topic of conversation, then he too would eagerly get carried away with such a delightfully silly distraction. Alas, he had to keep his wits about him to be sure he didn't reveal the horrifying truth. 

“No, he definitely knows how pretty I am." Harry hopped onto the counter behind him and leaned his back against the cupboards. Crossing his arms thoughtfully and wearing his most handsome brooding face, Harry teased her with more ridiculously obtuse details, "But it’s like he sees right through me. _And his gaze is so intense,"_  Harry visibly shivered, " _I just -_ I get the most _terrifying_ and _exhilarating_ feelings when he looks at me.” his eyes were half lidded and dreamy as he described this.

Harry squeezed his thighs together and  cursed himself for the way his body was responding to this conversation. There was heat pooling low in his tummy, his head felt fuzzy, and _fuck_ did this man make him horny whenever he made the mistake of thinking about him _like this_ for too long.

 _“Ooo,"_ Mary Jane had gotten up from the couch and grabbed a stool to sit at the bar. "Just how often does he look at you?” she asked, picking up one of the lime wedges to suck on. Harry slid off the counter and retrieved two shot glasses. 

“Never if he can avoid it," he grumbled, selecting a bottle of flavored vodka to pour them both a round. 

 _“Damn,"_ she cursed. _"Hmm,_ what color are his eyes?" She wondered if she could slyly gain any hope of identifying this mystery man. "You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed. Come on, _tell me.”_

Harry hesitated, but after he'd downed the first shot it suddenly didn't seem like such a terrible idea to divulge this little clue. “Blue. _Icy, cold, soul piercing blue.”_ He was precariously close to swooning, _“They paralyze me with their stare,_ MJ. Whenever we make eye contact, everyone else seems to just disappear.” He waved his hands in a way that felt vaguely reminiscent of a magician, but it probably just looked silly. Mary Jane giggled, but her expression sobered a bit when her brain fully processed what he'd said.  
  
“That...sounds very romantic _or creeptastic,_ depending on the context.” She poured another shot and nudged it towards him _“More, tell me more,”_ she encouraged.  
  
“When he says my name,” Harry’s eyes were glossy, he wet his lips without thinking about it. Closing his eyes, he recalled the man’s deep timbre perfectly. “It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” he told her, “His voice is almost hypnotic. _But it’s always full of such derision or disinterest.”_ Harry lifted the shot to his lips and drank without even tasting it. His gut twisted. _'Why am I talking about this? I shouldn’t even be thinking these things.’_

Mary Jane started to come back to her senses when she saw the way he clumsily reached for the bottle. Now would definitely be a good time to switch over to water or soda. The last thing they both needed was Mr. Osborn coming home to find them both stumbling about or passed out on the floor.

“He sounds like an ass,” she said, as she snatched the bottle out of her friend’s hand.

“Hey, I was drinking that!” Harry protested.

“I think we’ve both had enough for now.”

A little disappointed but too tired to argue, he agreed. “I think, I’ll go lie down,” he told her, fighting a sudden dizziness as he made his way back over to the couch.

She quickly tidied up the bar, grabbed a couple water bottles and walked over to join him. At first glance, she’d thought he’d fallen asleep. His eyes were closed, his chest rose and fell with even breaths while the rest of his body was completely still. She knelt down beside him and brushed a few stray hairs away from his face. His eyes fluttered open to meet hers and he sighed. “He’s definitely not a nice man,” he admitted and moved over enough to make space for her, patting the empty spot as invitation.

She laid down beside him and he turned to cuddle his head into her breasts. When he spoke again it was muffled and the breeze tickled. She giggled and swore she felt him smiling against her boobs, as they bounced with the movement of her laughter. "I'm going to need you to repeat that. Try speaking to my face this time." Reluctantly, Harry extricated himself from her cleavage.

"Okay, so he's a fucking jerk. But the dick wants what the dick wants, ya know?" Harry grumbled and he scooted up just a tad so he could suck on her neck. Mary Jane hummed her approval when she felt his tongue along her throat. She reached around him to rub his back with one hand and curled the other in his hair to help encourage him. 

 _"Ah,"_  she gasped. His kisses were sloppy and wet, but she had no complaints. His warmth was a comfort and the little scrape of teeth and the suction felt good.It was a battle to stay coherent, she had to speak through the urge to moan, "Rationalize it however you like, Harry, but he sounds dangerous." The warning caused him to pause, but she couldn't _not_ say anything. If Harold became as interested in this man as he was in Peter? That could definitely spell trouble, especially if the asshole reciprocated those feelings. She could trust Peter Parker not to take advantage of her friend, but Mystery Man still needed to be vetted. Which would be extremely difficult without knowing who the fuck he is.

After a long pause and a little kiss on the underside of her jaw, he told her, "You don't know the half of it." The heavy way he said it, completely convinced of his knowledge of this shady character was more cause for concern. If her mind wasn't so fuzzy from the drink, she'd be preparing a lecture for him right now. "He's not just dangerous," and he had to shift up onto his elbow to look her in the eye, _"this man is a force of nature._ ”

Staring up at him, she asked, “Are you sure that’s a storm you want to get caught up in?” He had to think about that. While he did, he laid back down and snuggled closer again.

“Yes, _no,"_ he sounded very conflicted. He spoke into her hair, _"I don’t think I could resist temptation._ That is, if the opportunity ever arose to get closer to him," He felt her tense in his arms, so he quickly sought to reassure her.  _"But_ I don’t anticipate that happening any time soon." She started to relax and he thought to unhelpfully add, "I’m definitely not fool enough to go chasing after a tornado, but I’m still curious about what it might be like to get swept up in one, ya know?”

She rolled her eyes, _“If this is about to turn into a Wizard of Oz reference…”_

“It’s not. But now that you mention it, I could absolutely rock a pair of ruby red shoes.”

“Ever the fashion enthusiast. But you’d look ridiculous with Dorothy’s hair.”


	9. The Friends Of My Friends Are My Adversaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Gwen’s New Confidant**  
>  Characters: Gwen and Eddie. Additionally, mentions of Peter and Harry.  
> Trigger Warnings for secret motives, manipulation.  
> Featuring One-sided Eddie/Harry and the rumors of potential Harry/Peter developing.  
> Gwen is finishing up at Connor's lab and preparing to leave when Eddie stops by and wants to talk.
> 
>  **New Avenger’s Orientation**  
>  Characters: Peter and Tony. Additionally, mentions Maria Hill, Luke Cage, Danny Rand, White Tiger, Nova, Harry and Norman.  
> Trigger Warnings for Tony being a bit of an ass.  
> Featuring Tony Stark VS. Norman Osborn. Also, Tony and Peter have an adorable Mentor/Mentee relationship. Let’s be honest, Tony totally wants to adopt Pete.  
> Brief description of what The New Avenger’s Team looks like.  
> Peter asks Tony's permission to bring his friends into Stark's Building.

#### Gwen’s New Confidant

#####  **Empire State University, Doctor Connors Lab.**

Gwen had finished transferring the results from the latest experiments onto the computer, went through all the minor routine lab maintenance that had been assigned to her, and was just tidying up her work station when Eddie Brock came up behind her.

“Getting ready to head home for the day, Gwen?”

“Yup, all done for today,” she smiled brightly. “You?”

“Yeah,” he blew out a sigh, “hey, before you go, wanna grab a bite to eat with me?” The invitation held absolutely no flirtation. Eddie knew Gwen was a lesbian and he’d confessed to being gay, but asked her to keep it on the DL. They weren’t exactly friends, because Gwen preferred to keep her personal relationships professional when science was involved. But he’d been encouraging Peter and Gwen to treat him like their big bro since they’d started working in Connor’s lab last year.

Still Gwen seemed a little uncertain. _Sure,_ Eddie had always been very kind to her and Peter. Even went out of his own way to make sure that they both felt welcome. But sometimes he just seemed a little _too friendly_ and Gwen couldn't shake the impression that he wanted something. _But,_ _then again,_ it was _probably_ just a much needed boost to his ego to have the two brilliant high schoolers looking up to him.

Gwen was just being paranoid if she thought Brock would try anything funny. He’s like a big brotherly type of guy. Dude leapt into action when Doc Connors turned into the Lizard and trashed the place. He’d thrown himself into danger to protect them all by tackling Curt, tracking the Lizard and using himself as bait to catch him. _'Eddie is definitely trustworthy,’_ Gwen reasoned, _‘and besides, what possible harm could there be in hanging out and catching up a bit?’_

While Gwen thought about it, Eddie took her silence as his cue to keep talking, “Yeah, food. Just a burger or fries or something,” when Gwen _still_ seemed hesitant, he made a show of letting down his guard. He let his broad shoulders droop forward a little and rubbed the back of his head. His voice lowered as if tainted with concern and a hint of regret, “I wanted to talk… about Pete. I know the Connors offered to let him come back this year, give him another shot, but I heard he turned them down. _That’s not -_ it’s not because I was such a jerk about the pictures, was it?”

 _“Oh, no._ Eddie, that wasn’t about you,” Gwen was quick to reassure him. “He just stumbled upon an even better opportunity. Peter actually managed to score a _paying_ internship, at _Stark Industries.”_ Her voice was filled with pride as she told him, but then she wondered briefly if maybe she shouldn’t have. It was Pete’s big news, and perhaps she’d just stolen Parker’s thunder by revealing it. Peter had been very receptive to Brock’s offer of friendship before the _Bugle’s_ contest had put a rift between them. The falling out to that budding friendship had been a big deal at the time. Maybe Eddie was finally ready to forgive and forget Parker’s seemingly confused priorities.

Eddie’s eyes widened with shock. “Really?” He was momentarily stunned by the news. _‘Parker hasn’t even finished high school and he’s already got a job at one of the biggest names in science and technology? How?’_ Brock took advantage of his own disbelief to keep his voice or facial expression from broadcasting his outrage. He’d hated the boy genius since he first laid eyes on the stupid kid all cozied up to Harold Osborn during a school field trip. To add insult to injury, Parker was definitely smarter and more agile in his thinking than Eddie had been at that age. Brock refused to admit that he felt _intellectually inferior_ around young Peter Parker.    

“Yeah, _between you and me,_ I’m pretty sure Spidey put in a good word for him. I heard rumors that the Web-slinger and Iron Man have been seen busting up some crime together recently.”

“No kidding? Wow,” His voice held a definite lack of enthusiasm. She’d think he was still just processing the information, probably. Eddie just couldn’t be bothered feigning excitement right now. “So I guess he won’t be coming around here, huh?” Honestly, he’d be glad that he wouldn’t have to put up with seeing the boy’s ugly mug if it weren’t for the fact that Peter had been his best source of intel on what was going on in Harry’s life.

“Probably not,” her voice and smile had become a little sad. Gwen thought he sounded disappointed that Parker had already moved on from ESU. She was trying to be sympathetic. _‘At least he’s taking the news better than Harry did.’_  

Eddie’s mind was working quickly. _‘If Pete’s not coming back, I have to double my efforts to convince Gwen to keep me apprised of what’s going on in Midtown. Osborn hasn’t responded to my offers to reconnect. I need more leverage.’_ Eddie brought a little forced cheer back into his voice, “Damn, _ya know,_ I actually miss overhearing the two of you prattle on about all your crazy high school stories. Made me nostalgic for the glory days.”

“The glory days? Seriously, you’re one of those?” Gwen was rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She could hardly wait to move on to college. Glorifying the hormonally charged dramafest and total bastion of teenage angst seemed so trite and lame as far as Ms. Stacy was concerned. As much as she was sure that she’d look back fondly on memories of her friends, she was even more certain that they all had better things to look forward to.

“One of those _what,_ Gwen?” Eddie sounded mildly offended. “High School was awesome for me. Top of my class, star athlete, I was on top of my game. But I’ve been floundering a bit in college, ya know? With everything that’s been going on...” Now _that_ was something she supposed made sense. _‘The academic rigor must be wearing down on poor Eddie. Not even to mention all of the craziness that’s been surrounding ESU lately with the emergence of so many supervillains.’_ By the tail end of Junior Year, Gwen had been feeling some of the most intense burnout of her life. So she decided not to give him any more flak for wanting to relive the past when he prompted her, “So _go on_ , let me reminisce a little. How are things with the gang at Midtown High?”

Gwen smiled, _“Well,_ the school year literally just started today, so don’t be disappointed that there’s not yet much to tell, _but…”_

“Oh, I can sense a story, _Miss Stacy,_ let’s walk and talk,” he said as he gestured towards the door. Gwen agreed and turned to grab her bag. _‘A more relaxed setting and a little distraction to keep her from thinking too much over her answers should help loosen her tongue.’_ Eddie’s grin was predatory, but she was no longer facing him to see the wicked glint in his eye.  

As she followed Eddie out of the lab, Gwen pondered how best to describe the silliness that ensued when they were trying to make Harry feel better about Pete’s new job and her suspicions about what was sure to be the beginning of a romantic comedy. “Okay, well, you remember us talking about our friends Harry and MJ, right?”

“The Dramatic Duo,” Eddie smiled indulgently, “how could I forget?”

“Right, _well,_ I’ve long suspected that they’re both bisexual.” _And okay,_ Gwen knew it was probably _not cool_ for her to out her friends like this, but how likely are they to cross paths with Eddie, anyway? _‘It’d actually be nice to have a soundboard, to process all of this drama with someone who’s not involved. Especially since he’ll have some insight from a gay boy’s perspective.’_ Yes, Gwen decided that she was totally justified giving into the urge to gossip about her friends. Just a little bit.  

“So Peter’s the token straight in your little gang, despite treating you like the token gay? Funny.”

Gwen snorted, “Yeah, he’s a bit of a dolt like that. _Anyway,_ I got to thinking about some things, just little clues here and there…”

“And Detective Stacy has a new theory, I suppose. Lay it on me, what’s the new case?”

“Ah,” she said, “this is the case of the mystery crush.”

“Mystery crush? Whose crush?”

“MJ mentioned something about Harry having a big crush at lunch.” Brock’s pulse quickened, he put his hands in his pockets in an attempt to stay casual. Gwen was smiling fondly, her eyes unfocused, too preoccupied reimagining the earlier events to notice the shadow that had fallen over Brock’s face. Her tone was increasingly playful as she continued, “They were whispering all about some embarrassing thing Harry did in front of them. _But_ I’m pretty sure I know who it is.”  

Eddie’s heart pounded. ‘ _Harry._ My Harry _is interested in someone else?’_ He had to unclench his fists and jaw, hoping Gwen hadn’t noticed the sudden tension in his posture. _‘Play it cool,’_ he reminded himself. _‘Stay in character. You’re only entertaining a funny piece of gossip as far as she knows.’_ He kicked at a stray piece of trash on the sidewalk, pausing the conversation briefly to get his frustration under control and to keep from sounding _too_ eager. _“Yeah?_ So who is it?” he asked, trying to seem as though he didn’t really care, but it was a strain to keep all of the anger out of his voice.

“Well, I can’t be _absolutely, definitely positive,”_ she gave him a very _knowing_ look as she said this, so she must’ve had some very good reasons for believing this, _“but_ I’m pretty sure it’s Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker,” Eddie almost choked on the name, repeating it in a state of disbelief. _‘No. No fucking way is that true. She must be wrong. That stringy little brown haired, brown eyed dweeb? What would_ Harry _want with him? Sure, the kid’s smart - book smart, at least, but he’s too goddamn timid and_ nice. _Harry needs an older man with a firm, guiding hand.’_

“I hope you're wrong about that,” he said honestly, but for Gwen’s benefit he added, “For your friend’s sake, _I mean,_ I’m pretty sure Pete doesn’t play for the same team.” Eddie’s thoughtful frown easily disguised his anger as concern while he tried to reassure himself that Pete wouldn’t be a serious threat. _'Dude was dating a cheerleader last year, right? Cute Latino chick, Liz, I think? Peter’s almost definitely a stubborn hetero, but that doesn’t mean poor Petey won’t try to take advantage of Osborn for his cash. I’d be doing Harry a favor if I step in to keep the little gold digger away.’_

Gwen frowned, “I wouldn't be so sure about that.”

“Come on, _Peter Parker?_ He’s as straight as they come.”

“Maybe, but you haven’t met Harry. The word metrosexual comes to mind, but it doesn’t quite fit. He’s not really effeminate, but I don’t really think he’s very masculine either.” Gwen seemed a little frustrated with her inability to describe him accurately. “Anyway, I think even Peter could make an exception.” More quietly she added, _“For Harry, I think even I would consider it.”_ She cleared her throat and resumed at her normal volume, “MJ says he, _um,_ well, he’s really good at _…sex._ Let’s just put it that way. You probably wouldn’t appreciate all the graphic details.”

Brock suppressed the urge to roll his eyes when Gwen mentioned MJ. _'Of course Harry’s beard is going to sing his praises.’_ Eddie wanted to protest. He really wanted to insist that Harry would never fall for a guy like Peter. That Peter didn’t deserve a boy like Harry. But it would serve no purpose and probably make Gwen suspicious of his true motives. Let this whole awful situation play out for just a little while. Meanwhile, he could do his best to keep an eye on things through Gwen and see about moving some pieces into place to ensure that Peter wouldn't lay a hand on his princess.

“Well, sounds like things are going to get really complicated in your little squad. You should let me know how things shake out. _I mean,_ if you ever need to vent your frustrations, I’d be happy to listen and lend an outside perspective.” He wore his best big brotherly smile and rested a hand on her shoulder as he said this.

“Really?” She had a look of confusion and caution for a moment, but it slowly melted the longer she looked at him. After a few seconds thinking about it, she said, “That actually sounds like such a relief right now. I love the squad, _I really do,_  but _sometimes_ they just drive me bonkers. _And I do not_ want to get sucked in so deep that I can’t step back and be the voice of reason that I know they’ll need.”

“Happy to help. _Oh and hey,_ tell Peter I want to get back in touch with him, okay?”  

#### New Avenger’s Orientation

Commander Maria Hill was leading Stark’s _New Avengers_ project. A team of super-powered individuals in training, tasked with protecting Avenger’s New York HQ, monitoring and intervening in any local super-criminal behavior (seeing as New York seemed especially prone to these _incidents_ ), and preparing to act as backup in the event of any more global attacks.

The Team Leaders were Luke Cage and Danny Rand. Also known as Power Man and Iron Fist, respectfully. The two twenty-somethings were an odd pair, very street wise, and both specialized in hand-to-hand combat. Luke, by way of some mad science experiment, acquired unbreakable skin, super strength and stamina. While Danny Rand is able to intensify his strength, speed, stamina, durability, agility, reflexes and senses by focusing his chi. The code name “Iron Fist” is in reference to Danny’s ability to charge his hand with his ‘natural energies’ and strike his fist with superhuman hardness and impact. _Exactly how_ Danny acquired these skills was a story that Peter suspected Danny made intentionally vague and confusing just to keep up with his funny ninja/monk persona. Parker didn’t understand what K'un Lun was or how it was relevant to this story, so it probably doesn’t really require any more explanation than that.

The other small assemblage of recruits included White Tiger, Nova, and Spider-Man. There were other vigilantes, former SHIELD Agents, and _enhanced_ individuals that the team kept in contact with for the purpose of sharing information and forming the occasional team-up, but this was the primary group that Spidey would be working with.

Tony Stark was the director of this little initiative, but he usually had better things to do than pal around and conduct all the training himself. The man liked to tinker and had many, many pet projects in the wing. _But_ as a scientist and an inventor, Tony took a special interest in mentoring Peter Parker. So while Iron Man would only occasionally provide supervision and an assist to the New Avenger’s daily operations, he tried extra hard to make time in his busy schedule for the goofy kid.

So when Tony saw Peter hovering outside his door, he waved the boy in with a welcoming smile. He didn’t know if the paternal instincts he felt toward the young lad were more annoying or heartwarming, but he supposed that was normal for any familial sort of relationship. Equal parts aggravating and nurturing.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, can I have a word?” Peter cautiously approached his new mentor. He was anticipating some - or rather, _a lot_ of resistance to his request, but he needed to at least make an effort anyway.

“Sure. What’s up, Underoos?”

Parker winced a little, “I was just wondering if maybe... would it be okay to have my friends stop by the lab? Or at least the building, for dinner or a lunch break sort of thing? It would really help sell my cover story and just to reassure them that this is legit and also they’re sort of hounding me about spending more time with them, and I -” Peter had to stop and take a deep breath, because he had run out of air. _“I really miss hanging out with them._ Being a superhero is a high stress job, ya know? I mean, _of course you know._ Obviously. So you must understand how important it is for me to maintain healthy relationships outside of work.”

“That depends, Pete. Is this part of some humble brag to impress a pretty girl?”

“No!” Peter thought of Harry and blushed.

 _“No?_ You sure about that?” Tony asked, amused at how flustered the boy seemed on top of his earlier nervousness.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, I know the girls would be beside themselves, _Gwen especially,_ if I could get them in the front door, but - _well,”_ Peter was hesitating. This is the part that he knew Stark wouldn’t like, “mostly I want to reassure Harry that everything’s on the up-and-up. He’s concerned for me.”

Stark’s amusement dropped. “You mean Harold _Osborn?”_ Tony crossed his arms and looked every bit the embodiment of a petulant child that just had their candy stolen. “Was this _his_ idea? Trying to sneak a peek at _my_ labs for his big ol’ daddy dearest? _Hell no.”_

“Harry’s not like that! _Really!”_ Peter insisted, “He’s a good friend. He’s been my _best friend_ since the seventh grade, and there’s no way he would risk ruining this for me just to steal a scrap of intel that he wouldn’t even understand and bring it back to Norman.”

“He’s a stupid, spoiled teenager, Peter. I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you.”

“Allow me to introduce you, okay? I can bring him around the building and we can break bread. I promise, _he’s not his father._ Tony,” and Peter was pleading with him now. “His friendship is really important to me and it’s been on the rocks ever since I started suiting up in red and blue spandex. I didn’t even realize how accepting your offer would jeopardize that and now if I can’t convince him to be okay with me working for his dad’s rival then -” his voice got real quiet, “I just don’t want to lose him, Tony. Please, help me out of this mess.”  

 _‘Damn him,’_ Tony thought, _‘I’m actually considering this ridiculous request. Oh, oh no. Not the puppy eyes.’_ The billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist groaned and felt himself giving in. _“Fine,”_ he grumbled, “but keep him away from the labs and don’t let him touch any computers or gadgets of any sort!” His stubborn, grumpy gaze was no match for Peter’s unbridled enthusiasm.

“You won’t regret this, Mr. Stark, I promise! And really, you should stop by while he’s here so I can introduce you.”

“You think I’m going to let an Osborn into my house while I’m away?” Tony snorted, “You can let your friends know that I plan to be there. And let _him_ know that I’ll be watching.” He frowned, “If they think it’s strange that Iron Man himself cares so much about a junior scientist on his staff, then perhaps I should make up some sort of excuse. Like just rubbing it in that I recruited his genius friend before Normie-kins could get his claws into you. _Now that_ will definitely sell your cover story.” Tony’s smile was devious. Peter worried that maybe this idea would just make things worse, but it was still worth a try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can thank Ryzal and Giga_Kitten for my quick updates, as they have provided me with much needed advice and encouragement! Thank you! 
> 
> Also, I totes ripped off the Wikipedia descriptions of Luke Cage and Danny Rand's powers. 
> 
> Oh, and in my story, SHIELD was destroyed after the Hydra fiasco from Captain America: Winter Soldier.


	10. What Did Eddie Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Daddy's Home:**  
>  Characters: Norman, Harry, and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Eddie Brock.  
> Trigger Warnings for past underage (group) rape, bullying, derogatory language (gay slurs), father-son tension, coming out, questionable parenting.  
> Featuring: One-sided Harry/Norman and past Eddie/Harry.  
> Norman returns home and continues his discussion with Harry from earlier that morning (chapters one and two).

#### Daddy’s Home

When Norman returned that evening, he found his son curled up on the couch with his redheaded friend, Mary Jane What's-her-face. _'Watson, the hussy's name is Watson.’_ The sight maybe wouldn’t have irked him so much if he hadn’t come through the door fully prepared to finish interrogating his son about their earlier conversation. _And if Harry hadn’t made promises about being ‘committed to making better choices this year.’_

Norman Osborn pressed his left thumb and forefinger against the middle of his brow, closed his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. _‘A fit of rage would be pointless. He’s only a teenager, a minor nuisance right now, but still potentially a very loyal and convenient stooge as long as I can resist the urge to kill him.’_ His eyes glanced over the young woman that was lying on top of his son. _‘And besides that, there’s a witness.’_

As Norman approached them he still couldn’t help but briefly imagine shaking them _violently,_ or dousing them both with ice water. Instead, he knocked on the side table loud enough for the noise to rouse them. As they began to stir, he asked, “Isn’t it a school night? Shouldn’t you be in your own home, Miss Watson?” He stood in front of them, with his arms crossed, staring down and speaking in his _Stern Dad Voice._ Unsmiling, but not quite angry yet either.

“I - _what time is it?_ ” Mary Jane asked, her eyes were bleary, her voice filled with sleep, and she seemed to be struggling to extricate her limbs from where they’d become entangled with Harry’s. _“Oh,_ oh, I’m _so sorry_ Mr. Osborn,” she said once she recognized who was standing over them. “We just - _I came over to discuss,_ um,” she hesitated. Not exactly sure of what to say. _‘To discuss nothing. I just wanted to get drunk and screw around with your son,’_ didn’t seem like a suitable explanation.

 _Clearly_ the next words uttered were going to be a half-baked lie. The way Norman’s stare _intensified_ was a little bit terrifying from this angle. Mary Jane’s mind stuttered to think of a good excuse. Luckily, Harry had a talent for improve.

“Drama club is considering the possibility of putting on an original, student written performance this year. Mary Jane came over to help brainstorm ideas,” Harry supplied for her. “We must’ve lost track of time and fell asleep. It’s been a long day.” From underneath her, he hadn’t even bothered to move beyond opening his eyes. She was a little mystified at Harry’s ability to remain calm in the face of his father’s stern disapproval. She supposed that he had _a lot_ of practice.

Norman’s eyes narrowed, but he decided not to waste any efforts disputing the obvious lie. Still addressing Mary Jane rather than acknowledging his foolish son, he asked, “Do we need to arrange for you to get a ride home or will you be spending the night _in one of the guest rooms?”_ There was a clear note of warning in the last phrase intended for Harold, and he reluctantly moved to sit upright when he heard it.

“Um, I should probably call home and check in with my parents.” MJ worried her bottom lip as she glanced between father and son, and she swore she saw a little glimmer of pleading in her friend’s eyes. _'It really had been a long day and he would probably really appreciate the company tonight.’_ Besides, Mary Jane was never all that eager to return to her own home anyway. “Would it really be alright if I stayed? That way Harry and I can continue our conversation on the ride to school in the morning.”

“It’s no trouble,” Norman said. If anything, it was almost more convenient when Harry's friends were around to keep the stupid boy occupied. Harold had always been a clingy, annoying child. Allowing a little tomfoolery was worth it just to make it that much easier for Norman to evade his son’s grabby hands. “While you call your parents, I need to have a word with Harry. _In my office,”_ he commanded before he left the room, expecting Harry to obediently follow. Harold gave MJ a glum look and she squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m here for you,” she whispered. He nodded mutely and left to join his father in the home office. He paused only briefly outside the door to ensure that his best poker face was in place before he walked inside.

“Do I need to be concerned about having grandchildren in the near future?” His father asked without preamble, not even having the tact to wait until Harry had closed the door.

 _“No,”_ Harry replied forcefully, offended at the insinuation that he and MJ would be so reckless. The little _‘click’_ sound as he pushed the door shut behind him summoned a terrible itching sensation in Harry’s brain. _'Father is always his cruelest when we’re completely alone.’_ Harry steeled himself to face the worst, feeling comforted by Mary Jane’s continued presence in his home. _'All I have to do is get through this conversation without fucking up too badly and then I can fall back beneath Father’s notice and into her arms.’_

“Wasn’t it just _this morning_ that you were promising to keep your impulses under control?” Norman’s voice was severe, but still quiet and _tightly_ controlled.

 _“Dad,”_ he forced as much righteous conviction into his voice as he could, with just a touch of incredulity at having to say this, _“we were just cuddling._ On the couch! Nothing sexy was happening!” The most arrogant and detestable of his character masks was sliding into place.  _'Regrettably, it's what Father has come to expect of me. Let puberty take the blame for it.'_

Norman gave him a flat stare that tested Harry’s resolve. He would _not_ give Father the satisfaction of seeing him reduced to a hand wringing, anxious little pissant twice in the same day. _'Stay strong. Hold your ground. You’re well within your rights to keep secrets. You don’t owe him the truth, you don’t owe him anything.’_ Harry tried very hard to convince himself of these sentiments. _'You are your own person. He cannot control you unless you allow it.’_

But as Harry’s gaze swept over the cutting jaw, those piercing blue eyes, and the hidden strength of his father’s figure clothed in that dark Armani suit...  Harry’s knees felt a little weak. _'O_ _kay, so being under his thumb doesn’t seem like such a bad position to be in when you’re still feeling a bit drunk and horny from fooling around with Mary Jane.’_

 _“Maybe a little sexy,”_ the teen eventually admitted, “but we both can’t help being gorgeous. Our clothes stayed on!” Harry felt a hint of satisfaction when he noticed Father’s lips twitch with repressed amusement before all seriousness was restored.

“Do you really think I have no idea what goes on in my own home, Harry? I know what the two of you get up to when I’m not here.” Norman sounded so serious just then that Harry wanted to laugh. _'Dad doesn’t realize how pervy that sounds. Gosh, I hope he doesn’t think too long and_ hard _about our little fuckfests while he’s away.’_ The sarcasm in his thought process showed on his face, and he couldn’t help but revel in being so unaffected by one of his father’s barbs. Plus, he had a decent comeback at the ready, which was all the more satisfying.

“Well, it doesn’t really take a genius to figure that out, does it?” Harry challenged with a dispassionate shrug. Norman’s eyes narrowed but nothing else betrayed the way he was seething at being met with such impertinence. The blasé countenance on either side didn't last long. Harry’s anger was quickly rising to a boil beneath the surface and Norman wanted nothing more in that moment than to see his son punished for his insubordinate attitude. 

Harry’s rant continued with a growl, _“But we’re not stupid,_ and MJ is in no hurry to have my babies.” He was so _not_ in the mood to hear another lecture about gold diggers and their gross reproductive traps. Mary Jane isn’t like that and Norman should know better than to be so insensitive where Harry’s friends are concerned.

“Better we fool around in here than get caught by the tabloids out in a less secure setting, eh?” _And Harry did actually have a point there._ Norman didn’t want the bad press of having his son be the latest incorrigible playboy, especially not if it meant inevitable comparisons to _Tony Stark._ Harold didn’t have the tech genius or heroic inclinations to make up for such disgusting habits. “You don’t really want to expend any extra resources just to keep tabs on a horny teenager, do you?”  

Reluctantly, Norman decided that it was better to lose this battle. Harold would be caught off guard by being given tacit approval to fuck with Mary Jane and _why should Norman care where Harry put his_ _dick?_ As long as he managed to avoid any consequences that would affect _Osborn's_ reputation, Harry could fuck whoever he wanted.

“You’ll be vigilant about using protection and keep the affair away from any prying eyes or cameras?” Norman's tone was still cruel but the wrinkles around his eyes had begun to soften. He was backing down, preparing to let this go, readying himself to address the topic of true concern. 

“Of course. Is that all?” Harry was eager to be dismissed.

Norman leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. Leveling a hard look at his son. “I still want to know about Eddie.”

 _‘And I told you to drop it.’_ Harry swallowed the urge to start growling and openly defying his father. He’d _known_ this was coming, he’d had all day to prepare. But that didn’t make this conversation any easier. Norman rarely paid attention to Harold's personal affairs, but when the old man got a bug up his ass about something,  _dammit,_ he would not let it go until the issue was appropriately dealt with. Arguing and getting overly defensive would just make him look guilty and harden Norman's resolve to uncover the truth. 

Harry took a deep, _calming_ breath and let his posture visibly droop with exhaustion. “It’s been a long day. Dad, _honestly,_ since when do you _even care_ about petty gossip?” This little performance unintentionally served as a reminder to Harry that he really was still exhausted. That little cat nap on the couch did nothing to replenish his energy reserves. He wanted for nothing more than his bed. _‘Well, maybe one more thing,’_ he thought, as his father stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. The boy tensed and willed himself to resist the desire to surge forward with the hope Norman would welcome him into a warm embrace.

Norman was looking down on his son with the most sympathetic expression that he could manage in spite of his frustration. He was carefully attentive to the way Harry seemed to be warring with himself. _‘No matter how frivolous this incident truly was, it’s unacceptable for Harold to think he can keep secrets from me.’_ The small boy used to tell him everything, _‘he wouldn’t shut up,’_ always interrupting his father’s work over the most inane bullshit that Norman had ever heard. _‘Harry couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, but apparently he deemed this particular incident worth trying to hide.’_  

At first, it had been a blessing when Harold finally learned to keep things to himself and his friends, but as he gets older the information he possesses becomes potentially more useful or even _dangerous_ , depending on what details Harry might overhear in his father’s company. _‘It’s more important than ever that Harry learn to trust his father with all his secrets.’_ Norman caught Harry’s eye, held his gaze, and gently squeezed his shoulder.

“I begin to care when it affects _my son.”_ It was the same line he’d used that morning, in the car it had almost worked. Now, in this setting, when Harry was already feeling so vulnerable and didn’t have any impending destination to derail the topic, _the temptation was even stronger._ Harry was at war with himself, thinking, hoping, truly believing, _'Father cares for me, he hides it well, but he still cares.’_ Harry had to break eye contact, staring over his father’s shoulder. _‘It's cruel for me to keep dodging his questions and expect him to accept my silence. He’s still my father. But if I tell him the truth - the whole truth - no, I can’t. He’ll never forgive me.’_

“Whatever happened _obviously_ still bothers you. Harry, _it’s been years._ It’s time that you admit it so you can move on. I won’t be upset with you,” Norman promised, _“if you just tell me what happened.”_ Harold held his breath, daring to face his father again, searching for any sign that this was a lie and finding none. Norman’s face seemed to be awash with guilt, the absent father seeking atonement for his negligence, or at least that’s what the old man wanted Harry to see.

Green eyes stared into blue for a long moment before Harry swallowed hard and broke eye contact again. It had been unsettling and comforting at the same time, but there was just no way he could bear to see his father’s face while he confessed.

“Eddie - _I - we,”_ Harry didn’t know where to begin. _So much had transpired between them,_ so much that Harry could still scarcely understand how it had happened or why it had been allowed to continue for as long as it had _._ Harry shook his head and fought the urge to run, to hide and curl himself into a ball. “I thought we were friends,” he admitted, and _dammit_ he was already choking up and he hadn’t even said _anything_ that Norman didn’t already know. He was beginning to tremble with the effort to keep from bolting for the door.

“Friends generally don’t beat each other senseless for no reason,” Norman commented, becoming impatient with Harold’s stuttering and sniveling. “Harry, _what did Eddie do?”_

“He - he said he had something to show me.” And this small sliver of truth alone was almost enough to reduce him to tears, but he swallowed the _fear and the outrage,_ “but when I f-followed him _into the locker room, he -”_ Harry had to close his eyes tightly, he couldn’t bear to see his father’s disappointment. “His friends were waiting and I -” Harry’s voice broke as he remembered.

_‘They made me take off my clothes. Eddie threatened to expose everything we’d already done together, so that the whole world would know what a pathetic, submissive freak I am. They were going to hurt me, they were going to rape me anyway, no matter what I did, so… So I did everything they asked of me. I thought it would hurt less that way, if I just did as I was told. But I was wrong, I was so wrong.’_

Harry decided to risk Norman’s outrage and he leaned into his father, burying his face in his shoulder and wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist. The boy’s breathing had become erratic and the tears that burst forth quickly began soaking into his father’s shirt. His hands clutched desperately at Norman’s back, wanting something to hold onto, needing to be sure that Father wouldn’t leave him. _“They -_ they attacked me. Pushed me down, c-called me a fag, _and they hurt me._ I - _I was so afraid.”_

Norman had to fight his feelings of disgust and revulsion to keep from shoving his whimpering child away. _'If I did that, this whole effort would be wasted.’_ Reluctantly, Norman wrapped his arms around his son. _'Physical contact_ _has always been the most effective means of calming Harold’s anxiety and requires very little effort,'_ Norman acknowledged the necessity of these tender moments, but he still hated them. He began gently petting the boy’s hair and rubbing circles on his back. Holding him close, making quiet soothing sounds by his son’s ear, waiting for the worst of the distress to abate before he would prompt his child for more answers.

“Why didn’t you say anything before, Harry? You should’ve reported the incident. Instead you sought revenge by attacking a boy twice your size in front of the school?” Norman's words held more judgement than actual questions.  

“It was humiliating, _Dad,_ I know _I should’ve told you,_ but I just - I couldn’t bear it.” Harry tightened his hold around his father, never wanting to let go. When Norman responded in kind by pulling him even closer, Harry’s spirit seemed to rise. The anguish still lingered, but it was completely overshadowed with a feeling of joy. It was so rare for Father to hold him like this, he could scarcely recall any occasion where he had that didn’t involve an injury of some sort.

“You couldn’t bear to admit that a few stupid adolescents roughed you up and called you names? They would’ve been the ones facing expulsion if you would’ve told me.” Norman sounded confused.

“I didn’t want to say anything because it was true. What they called me.” There was a heavy note of resignation in that statement. _'It was all true.’_

 _‘Slag whore, fairy, fag, cockslut, stupid bitch, sissy boy,’_ Harry winced as his mind conjured the names like shouts in his head. “I am - or, no, _I thought I was gay.”_

This, of course, led to an awkward silence while Norman was even more perplexed with what his son was trying to say. _‘Hadn’t we just finished talking about how Harry has been fucking around with Mary Jane?’_ Norman’s hands eased off from where they had been buried in his son’s hair and rubbing his back.

“But, of course, that was only half right,” and Harry quite unexpectedly gave a short laugh. _‘I might be just a tad hysterical,’_ he realized. _“I’m bi._ Bisexual, I mean. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I was still coming to terms with it myself. _I’m sorry._ ” He missed the soothing motions of his father’s hands and became suddenly very afraid, _had Eddie’s warnings been justified? Would Norman reject him for being queer?_

He didn’t know what to think when Norman’s hands grasped both of his shoulders and pulled him away far enough that they could properly look each other in the eye.

“That’s it? That’s all?” Norman tried to disguise his annoyance as relief. So the kid had been bullied for being queer. _Big whoop._ Water under the bridge. Kids will be kids. Norman had dealt with much worse when he’d been growing up. As far as he was concerned, learning to take a beating was _necessary_ to build character. But _poor, sheltered, namby-pamby_ Harry was too weak to conduct himself properly when a situation called for a show of force and quick wit. Couldn't even pick himself up and brush off all the dust _after nearly five years._   _‘I really have been too gentle, too kind, if all it takes is a few kicks and slurs to reduce the boy to tears.’_

Harry didn’t want to lie, so he pushed forward to brush his head against Daddy’s shoulder in a motion that approximated a nod. It felt less dishonest that way. Besides, if he absoluty had to suffer through this conversation, he would definiely take advantage of every opportunity to touch his secret crush.

“Eddie is a bully. A big, stupid, mean bully and I hate him and I never want to see him again," the words were muffled against Norman's collar while Harry tried not to obviously bask in the smell of him. He felt dirty for taking such perverse comfort in his father's arms, but he couldn't help it. He squeezed tighter as he felt the way Norman was shifting in his grasp, trying to pull away without hurting Harry. 

“I’ll have him blacklisted,” Norman offered. Actions always speak louder than words. This small favor would prove to the boy that his father could be trusted. “He won’t ever get a job at OsCorp or with any of our affiliates.” Harry sighed with relief. This small penalty was no where near enough punishment for what Eddie Brock had done, but it was a start.

 _‘Eddie Brock would have only ever been a second rate tool, anyway, he may be smart enough to score decent grades, but he lacks the imagination to be of any special use.’_ And _how dare_ Brock think he could get away with damaging _Norman’s_ property. _'All that time spent cozying up to Harold, only to betray him? Given half the chance, Edward Brock, Jr. probably would’ve attempted an even worse attack. Besides, I can certainly not abide by such a lack of respect. Worthless, whimpering kid though he may be, Harry is still mine.’_

“Did you and MJ eat dinner yet?” Norman asked, with hopes that Harry would _take the hint_ and _go away._ He'd had quite enough of this mushy nonsense.

“That - that’s it? Really? I _finally_ come out and we're not even going to acknowledge that?" Harry pulled away from their embrace just far enough that he could see his father’s face without going cross-eyed.

“Harry, I’ve known you were probably some kind of queer since you were six years old. You’ve never been subtle with your… predilection for feminine forms of expression and you were obviously never even remotely straight.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Harry hadn’t known what exactly to expect, but he definitely never would have anticipated that Norman would be so calm and _reasonable_ knowing even _this much_ of what he was.

“Why would it? _Harry,_ I may be old, but homosexuality is not a _new_ phenomenon. And whatever other terms they’re using these days, I honestly don’t care. You’re my son, as long as you stay safe and happy, I don’t see why any of that should affect the way I feel about you.”  

Staring up at his father and absorbing these words, Harold was in a state of awe. _'This doesn’t change anything,’_ a cruel voice taunted from somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, _'he won’t disown you for sucking cock, but if he ever found out which man you’ve been lusting after in particular, you will still find your ass deposited on the street corner or sent halfway round the world just to be sure he would never have to look at you ever again.’_ But Daddy's continued presence and this rare display of actual _kindness_ from _Norman Osborn_ was enough good fortune to chase away the demons for now. _'Let me enjoy this.'_

 

"Would it literally kill you to use the L-word, Dad?" Harry's voice was jovial. He knew it was probably too much to ask for, but  _why not press his luck just a little?_

"Harold."

"Yes, Dad?" And damn if he didn't just sound embarrassingly hopeful.

"Love is for hippies, sluts and idiots." He said it so matter of fact that Harry almost laughed. 

"I say I love you all the time," Harry argued.

"And I rest my case," Norman waved his hand in a dismissive gesture while Harry pouted. “Tell MJ to help herself to the kitchen or order in. You still have the card I gave you, yes? I’m going back out.”

“Out? Where? Didn’t you just get home?”

“I needed a change of clothes. High society bullshit, black tie affair. And Mary Jane had better either be sleeping in the guest room or gone by the time I return. Understood?”

“Yessir.”

“Good. _Behave yourselves.”_


	11. In & Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Eating In**  
>  Characters: Harry, Mary Jane and Norman. Additionally, mentions of Eddie.  
> Trigger Warnings for mentions of past sexual abuse, coming out and emotional hugs.  
> Mary Jane spends the night. Norman leaves. MJ and Harry have a chance to talk about how Harry just came out to his dad. 
> 
> **Eating Out**  
>  Characters: Harry and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Gwen and Peter.  
> Trigger Warnings for sex, cunnilingus, vaginal intercourse, mild gender dysphoria, _really weird_ and also some _cruel_ dirty talk.  
>  Harry and Mary Jane are strictly Friends With Benefits. One-sided MJ/Gwen and Harry/Peter short fantasy sequences during the sex. I'll post the extended summary in the end notes for those that want to skip over this part.

#### Eating In

When Harry emerged from Norman’s office, Mary Jane was waiting for him on the couch where he’d left her. “We good?” he asked, “Can you stay the night?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “Probably, Dad didn’t answer and Mom’s cell went straight to voicemail. I left a message. We should be good. What about you? Are you okay?” She didn’t know what to make of the expression on Harry’s face. His eyes were puffy, cheeks red and blotchy as if he’d been crying, but he was _smiling._ He actually seemed _happy_ after a private chat with _Norman Osborn._ She wondered vaguely if she’d fallen through a rift and into an alternate universe somehow without even noticing. Or he could just be covering up more angst with a cheerful mask. He’d always had a talent for that.

Harry dropped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, leaning against the armrest and pulling his knees to his chest as he turned to face her. She mimicked his pose. There were several moments of silence between them while he seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Mary Jane didn’t want to disrupt this process so she stayed still and quiet, admiring the view.

The sensitive boy was always so damn pretty, especially when he let his guard down and allowed himself to be so vulnerable. Her heart would ache for him, and she felt certain that he was meant to be an actor. Probably best suited for film rather than the stage, because it was the smallest of his expressions that communicated the most complex of emotions. She shuddered to think what his father would have to say about those career ambitions.

When finally he spoke up, he said, “I just - _I came out._ Just now.” Those expressive emerald eyes were wide, made all the brighter from all the tears he’d shed. She met his gaze with her own look of surprise.

 _“Out out?”_ MJ tried to hide her concern. She had no idea how Norman would react to that news, but she hadn’t heard any shouting and Harry’s distress seemed minimal, considering. Her question was met with a silent nod and she didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t trust her voice not to sound accusatory if she asked directly how his old man had responded to that confession. Besides, she trusted Harry to elaborate when he felt ready. “Wow,” slipped out before she could stop it. She reached forward to hold his hand, which he gratefully accepted.

“Wow,” he echoed the sentiment. _“Oh,”_ Harry remembered, “Did you want to order in or should we just rummage around the kitchen for supper?” he asked. The rest of this conversation would be more pleasant with food. They both still needed to eat, and Harold wanted to delay this chat until Father had left for the evening. It’d be less awkward if he knew for sure Norman wouldn’t overhear any of it.

“Let’s try the kitchen first,” she decided as she jumped to her feet and pulled him with her. She led the way, knowing her way around the penthouse almost as well as he did, and neither made any attempt to reclaim their hands from where they were clasped between them.

While they were making sandwiches and selecting pre-made salads from the refrigerator Norman came through in a tux to grab a bottle from the fridge. Neither teen looked close enough to notice what it was. As the old man took his leave, Harry bid him goodbye, “Stay safe, Dad. Beware any explosive green party crashers, will you? These fancy shindigs attract all sorts of super-criminals these days,” Harry had a conversational tone that only minimally covered the sincere worry he felt for his father. The man had dangerous enemies enough already, and the opulence of some of the events he attended was so absurd that Harry wondered if they might as well just ask to be robbed.

“I’ll be sure to tell the security to keep a lookout for any costumed freaks,” Norman rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.  Something tells me you’re both more likely to get into more trouble than me tonight.”  

Without further delay, Norman left.

"So what happened?" MJ asked as soon as the private elevator doors closed. “How did he take the news?”

“Like I just told him the sky was blue,” there was a note of disbelief in the statement, Harry was still wrapping his mind around how easily Norman accepted his son’s sexuality. “He said he’d already suspected that I was some sort of queer _since I was six years old._ Back then I didn’t even know. I was just a stupid little kid! _Although,_ in retrospect I guess it was always kind of obvious.”

“Huh,” she said, a little disappointed that there wasn’t more to it. “That’s it? He just brushed off this big confession as if it was old news?”

“Not exactly, I mean, it was part of a larger discussion, and I,” Harry had to pause while he remembered what had led up to it, but he smiled when he remembered what it had all led to. “When I called him on it, asked if we weren’t even going to acknowledge that… he said, well, not _verbatim,_  because he’s still _Norman Osborn._ But _in essence,_ he said he still loves me. Or at least that it doesn’t change the way he feels about me.”

“That’s really great, Hare,” she mirrored his smile. _“So_ what did you two talk about before that? What led to this big moment of truth?” She was sad to see her friend’s smile abruptly disappear. MJ took a large bite of her sandwich to help her swallow the urge to take back the question.

“I - _well,_ he asked about,” Harry angrily stared at his potato salad, fiddling with his fork and napkin until he finally sighed and looked back up and across the table. “About somebody that I used to know.”

“Oh,” she said around a mouthful, then hastily covered her mouth with her sleeve. After washing down the food with a long drink, she tentatively tried to investigate this subject just a little more. “Was this… a mutual acquaintance of ours?” He shook his head without hesitation this time.

“No, he,” Harry had to lick his teeth to clear some stuck piece of food or maybe just to stall while he thought of a suitably vague explanation. Then he bit his lip and forced himself to say, “He was just some guy, from before I ever met you. We broke ties when I transferred to the public school system.”

Mary Jane wore her best sympathetic face, looking curious, but hopefully not too invasive. He tended to clam up around uncomfortable subjects, and she really didn’t want to hurt him. The memory was already painful enough, judging by the way he kept wringing his hands and avoiding direct eye contact. So she made only a small humming sound in response, continuing the meal in silence while he seemed to ponder how much he felt safe telling her.

When the plates were cleared, he gestured for her to stay seated as he gathered up all the dishes and carried them over to the sink. Her patience had worn thin by this point. “Harry,” her voice was soft with just a hint of pleading, “who was he?” She could no longer ignore the way his face had been blotchy from all the dried tears when he had rejoined her earlier. She had to express her concern, even if he wasn’t yet ready to explain. Facing away from her, rinsing off the plates, Harold dropped them in the sink with a small clatter. He turned off the water with a heavy sigh.

“He… he hurt me,” and the way he said it, everything about the way he was acting suddenly made sense. _‘This is about the incident,’_ she realized, _‘this is the same man that molested Harry.’_ He refused to discuss what had happened in too much detail, but she’d had some limited success in talking about _‘The Bad Touch.’_ It still continuously managed to infiltrate his life in some of the most insidious of ways, and he liked to lean on her for support. She wished there was more that she could do for him. He’d turned around to look at her by now and noticed the recognition that lit up her face. She was too clever to not realize what he was talking about.

 _“And no,_ my dad still doesn’t know about that.” He answered the unasked question. “I didn’t lie, not exactly, but I haven’t told him the full truth either. He - _my dad -_ was getting suspicious and wanted to know more about why I refuse to mend fences with this asshole. I had to tell him something, but _MJ,”_ and Harry’s voice broke. “I’m just not ready to talk about what he did. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “You don’t have to talk about it, Harry, but _when you’re ready,”_ Mary Jane crossed the room to stand just an arm’s length in front of him, “I’m here for you. _The whole squad will be here for you_. We love you.” There were tears in his eyes as he closed the distance and they both wrapped their arms around each other. “You know,” she continued, although much of the seriousness had faded from her voice and been replaced with good cheer, “we’re not just pretty faces and bad puns.”

“Hey,” he mumbled around a sniff, “Don’t doubt the power of a pretty face and a stupid sense of humor, Mary Jane. I happen to think those are two of the most effective weapons against glum.”

“Of course, of course, _but you know what I mean.”_ The embrace tightened, and the two teens were both heartened and a little abashed at acting like they’d been directly pulled from some lame after school special. _They were supposed to be the coolest kids in school._ If anyone knew how mushy they got, then their combined cred would be totally ruined. _‘Worth it. Absolutely worth any derogatory bullshit that Flash or Sally could ever think to say.’_ Harry raised onto the tips of his toes so he could plant a kiss on his friend’s forehead.

 _“I do_ and I appreciate the sentiment.” With this emotional moment reaching a natural close, he nuzzled her nose with his own and they both discretely breathed in the scent of one another. The hug became progressively _less platonic,_ as their hands began to wander.

“Did you two talk about anything else?” MJ asked, curiously, trying to distract herself from the urge to seduce him. _‘It wouldn’t be fair. He’s almost incapable of saying no to sex when he’s upset.’_ But Harry was kissing her neck now and it felt _so good._ He paused and she nearly cursed herself for interrupting him. _‘We’ve done enough talking for the evening, haven’t we? I think we’ve both earned a little sexy interlude.’_

"He said you had better be sleeping in the guest room or have gone home by the time he returns."

"Oh," she’d slid her hands into his back pockets. _‘Hadn’t he already mentioned that even before they disappeared into the office?’_ This information was much less interesting than the feeling of his groin pressed against her own when she tugged him closer and _squeezed_ his firm little tushy.

 _"But…”_ Harry’s grin was devious, she was suddenly much more attentive to his mouth, recognizing the beginning of a scheme when she saw one. “He didn't say anything about which room _I_ need to be sleeping in."

 _“Oh,_ you naughty boy. Are you actually suggesting that we - ?” She was looking a little aghast, but _‘fuck it,’_ she thought. _‘I’m not passing up on the opportunity to get eaten out.’_ Going _downtown_ was almost always a given when having sex with Harry. His first-most priority was _consent_ , and the second-most was _lubrication and stretching._ Which generally meant that he treated her to some amazing oral sex before he would ever consider putting his dick in.

“Only if you’re up for it,” he winked as his voice dropped lower, “because I’m _totally_ willing to go down on you.”

“Um,” she pretended to think about it for half a second. _“Fuck yeah!”_

 

**Warning: Sex is About to Happen,**

**Featuring:** Safe, Consensual, Non-Romantic, Heterosexual Sex, Just Friends With Benefits, Cunnilingus, Fingering of Ass and Pussy, Vaginal Intercourse, Dirty Talk. 

 **Additional Warning:** Some Mild Gender Dysphoria is Mentioned.

(For those that want to skip this part, I’ll post a summary of the plot relevant details in the Chapter Notes. For everyone else: _please enjoy responsibly!_ **Ages 18+ only!** )

#### Eating Out

As they were leaving the kitchen, Mary Jane asked, “Do you have an extra razor that I can borrow? So I can clean up a bit first.” She gestured towards the lower half of her body.

“Yeah, under the sink with the rest of our usual overnight kit,” Harry directed her to his bedroom’s en suite. It wasn’t the least bit awkward for them to talk about. They both preferred smooth skin or well-kept pubic hairs to the wild tangles of unrestricted natural growth. The routine was so normal for them that Harry often kept at least one spare specifically for MJ, in a marked baggy to avoid contaminating it. He was very careful when it came to sharing items that came near the genitals or bodily fluids. He felt dirty and damaged enough by his experiences, and did _not_ want to take any stupid risks for catching a disease or infection that could call attention to those activities. Not even to mention how absolutely horrible he would feel if his partner suffered because of his irresponsible behavior.

While Mary Jane ‘freshened up’ Harry grabbed his ‘Sex Kit’ from underneath his bed. Wet wipes, gloves, lube (all water based to avoid making any stupid mistakes with silicone; liquid, gel, even flavored varieties, something for every occasion), condoms (a wide variety, ribbed, flavored, colored, plain), a couple dildos (one body safe silicone and the other glass), anal plugs and beads, bullet vibes… and a small assortment of blindfolds, soft restraints, a pair of scissors, and toys that would subtly aide in the sensory experience. He also grabbed a towel from the bathroom, calling out over the noise of the shower to say he’d be waiting in the guest room.

Harry re-arranged the pillows on the bed, one for her head and another for under her hips. He covered the second pillow and the edge of the mattress with the towel. Then he kneeled on the floor with his kit. In preparation for her return, he took one of the disposable gloves and cut it into a makeshift dental dam. A couple quick snips to take off the fingers, then up the side, keeping the thumb hole so that he’d be able to use it for his tongue. He set the protective barrier beside a bottle of lube, a small assortment of condoms to choose from, and the package of gloves he’d brought out of his goodie bag.

He was contemplating which of his toys he most wanted to play with when Mary Jane re-joined him. She knelt down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulder as she surveyed his choices thus far.

“What’s the plan?” MJ asked. Harry always had a plan in advance of any _serious_ action. Which isn’t to say he wasn’t spontaneous, but he made a game of disclosing and asking for explicit consent for sexual acts. And if he ever got carried away and bypassed that process, as they sometimes did when mixing alcohol or drugs into their sexy shenanigans, he felt horribly guilty for it. MJ understood some of the reasons for this, and had learned to be an enthusiastic participant during these necessary conversations.

 _“Hm,_ I think we should both get naked,” Harry said and gestured towards the bed. “You can lie on your back, with your ass near the edge of the bed. I’ll kneel on the floor.” He suggested.

“Between my legs?” she asked for clarification.

 _“Between your gorgeous thighs, babe.”_ His grin was lecherous.

Mary Jane stood up with a playful growl and began to strip off her shirt. Just the way he liked, too, criss-crossing her arms and peeling it off over her head. She had on her heavy duty no-nonsense, no-extra-frills cream colored sports bra underneath. A practical day-to-day necessity, given the considerable strain her _natural gifts_ placed on her back. Harry couldn't stop himself from staring.

As she relieved herself of that chest constraint, one of Harry’s idle hands wandered to adjust the tent in his pants. _'She’s so fucking gorgeous. Lean and strong, but soft around the edges. And her long hair, licking her face like red hot flames. Makes me actually_ want _to get burned.’_ He forgot himself for a moment. Still kneeling on the floor, looking up at this beautiful young woman and being overwhelmed with gratitude that they were able to share these experiences. _'I’m such a sissy,’_ he admonished himself.

“Didn’t you say we were both going to get naked?” She was looking down at him with her arms crossed under her boobs, in a way that pushed them up and made them seem all the more prominent on her exposed torso. The cold air and the sexual tension had already gone to work hardening her pretty pink nipples.

“I - yeah, I was just admiring the view,” Harry’s smiling confession was uncharacteristically shy, “Sometimes I don’t know which I want more, to have a body like yours, to hold you, _or to just fuck you senseless.”_

Mary Jane laughed, “Oh, just shut up and take your clothes off!” Her hands had dropped to her hips, allowing her breasts to bounce unrestrained as she took the few steps necessary to get closer and tower over where he still knelt on the floor. It required a lot of willpower to keep from getting distracted by their heavy sway. He swallowed the excess saliva that had accumulated in his mouth.

 _“Oh Harry, Honey,”_ she was shaking her head now, reaching down to grab him by the collar and guide him to his feet, “I can quite honestly, _100 percent definitively,_ say that _what I want right now_ is your sex.” She was palming the front of his pants as she said this. Harry closed his eyes, bit his bottom lip and _leaned into the touch._ Her breath and hair tickled his neck as she was whispering in his ear, “So save the cuddling and the sweet pillow talk for the afterglow. _Right now I want to get nasty.”_ With absolutely no hesitation or warning she followed this statement by flattening her tongue along the column of his throat and licking a long stripe across it. He couldn’t help buck into the warm hands that were petting his clothed erection.

Her scent was intoxicating. She felt similarly enthralled by the taste of his skin. They were kissing, although he couldn’t remember who had initiated it. Her tongue was investigating the backs of his teeth and he occupied himself with sucking on that curious appendage. Her breasts were so soft and abundant that they filled his hands and then some. She hummed with satisfaction as his thumbs rubbed over her _‘boob hats.’_ She giggled and had to pull away when the errant memory of that _Parks and Rec_ reference surprised her. He gently squeezed the generous handfuls of mammary tissue, being careful not to hurt her, and then dropped his hands her hips.

As their pelvises were guided to bump against each other, they shared a quick and closed mouthed kiss, making an audible smack that tempted them to giggle. He leaned his forehead against hers. “You’ll let me know if you get uncomfortable at all?” Harry asked, his smile was being gradually overtaken with a note of serious concern. One of her hands threaded itself in his hair and the other held his chin, holding his face in place as she drew far enough away that they could comfortably look each other in the eye.

MJ nodded, _“Of course I will,_ but you know I always feel safe with you.” Her words warmed his heart, helping to relieve a bit of the cold dread that always lingered in the back of his mind. It was standard procedure for Harry to run through a list of questions until he felt satisfied that he had her full consent. Then and only then would they be able to truly get down to business. _Then and only then_ could he comfortably fulfill his ‘true purpose’ _and feel useful._ He echoed her nod and she took a step back to give him room to undress.

With a tentative smile, he reached behind his head to grab the collar of his shirt. He pulled it up and off with a lot less grace than MJ, but she seemed satisfied with the result regardless. Harry was very lean, slender and pale, but she knew he was particularly self conscious about his own breasts. He would occasionally complain that they just didn't feel right and they were too damn sensitive, but he'd mostly stopped mentioning it lately. He was probably embarrassed about how his boob-related issues paled in comparison to the massive inconvenience caused by her special endowment.

 _“If I get too aggressive or anything hurts, you’ll tell me to stop,”_ he said. Harry had that damnable somber expression on his face again while he fiddled with the waistband of his jeans, reluctant to expose himself. _Looking at her,_ it sometimes reminded him of how he wished his own body were _different._ And all the earlier talk about Eddie hadn’t helped matters, his erection filled him with shame. Instead. He tried to just focus on Mary Jane. _'Gorgeous, vivacious, lovely, my most trusted and special friend. She deserves to be treated, to be pleasured and pampered. I can do that for her. I can make her feel good.’_

“Yes, Harry.” She reached forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders and comb her hands through the hair on the back of his head. She leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, parting them just enough that their tongues could barely meet in the middle and there was a loud _pop_ from the suction when they both pulled away. She tugged lightly on his hair with the fingers still tangled in it.

They were both a bit dazed, hot, and it was difficult to see straight - as if navigating through a heavy haze of lust - they only had eyes for each other right then. The worry and the angst had been vastly overshadowed by the irresistible allure of her soft, warm skin, but Harry still didn't quite feel ready to proceed. “Okay,” he said, “ _But if you change your mind -”_  

Mary Jane interrupted him. “I won't hesitate to let you know,” she insisted, lightly running one thumb along his jawline and then brushing it over Harry’s bottom lip. “Playboy, we’ve been over all of this before. You won’t hurt me, you never have, _and you’re so sweet_ but honestly I’m getting a little impatient.” Despite getting a little bit short with him, her voice was still heavily tinted with adoration. _‘I only get a bit irritable because I swear all of this saccharine doting and fretting gives me a metaphorical toothache.’_ She loved the boy, dearly, but _damn_ if she didn’t get a little tired of the endless reassurances he required. He was positively brimming with gooey, fluffy sentiment and it was always such a stark contrast to her own romantic preferences, ‘ _but holy hot damn, we’re still so physically-sexually compatible.'_

“Oh,” he opened his mouth and sucked her thumb in for a sloppy little kiss. As she pulled it free and wiped the saliva on his cheek, he turned his face into her open palm and purred, “ _I’ll be sure to make it up to you, I promise,”_ before he suddenly dropped to his knees. While nuzzling his head against her bare belly, one hand grabbed her ass and pulled her hips forward so she humped his face through her jeans and his nose dipped to press up against her groin, narrowly avoiding scraping against her zipper - _and so very near where she wanted him._

 _“Fuck,_ boy, hurry up and get these pants off,” she instructed. One of her hands found its way to the back of his head, playing with his hair, while the other grabbed at her own left boob. Overeager to get this show on the metaphorical road, her nails dug into his scalp, not hard enough to hurt, but still sharp enough to suggest a sense of _urgency._

He obliged by undoing the button and catching the zipper in his teeth while his fingers slipped into the waistband. He pulled down and with a little effort on his part and a lot of wiggling on hers, the tight pants pooled around her ankles. It took both hands to carefully pull her delicate, beautiful feet from each pant leg. One, then the other, and the fluffy white socks got left behind as well.

She turned and dropped down until her cute little lace clad bottom bounced on the mattress. She kicked her legs up so she could cross her ankles just behind Harry’s neck and urge his face closer to her _aching center._

He leaned forward and took a long, embarrassing whiff of her lady parts. The airflow tickled and she would've been discomfited by the gesture if she didn’t already know what he was about to say. _“You smell as lovely as ever,_ like a sexy flower. _If I could bottle your scent, I would delight in it whenever I could.”_ He sighed with a theatrical flair, “It’s indescribable. _So uniquely, definitely yours.”_

Mary Jane rolled her eyes. _'Ugh, Harry, must you always make things weird?’_ But she didn’t verbalize her complaint. She suspected he said such ridiculous things more for amusement value rather than actually finding them arousing.  _'Although, damn, if a good laugh doesn’t turn me on. And he's such a romantic fool. So adorable.’_ She couldn’t help but smile.

 _“And I bet it tastes even better,”_ he said just before his tongue flicked out, licking just above her mound, all the way to the jut of her hipbone and stopping to suck and lightly nip at the skin there with his teeth.

 _“Oh, fuck,_ Harry, _you know it does. Stop teasing me, please,”_ she groaned and reflexively kicked the air above his head when his hands brushed over a particularly ticklish spot along her sides.

 _“Aw,_ but I distinctly remember you once telling me that _anticipation_ was the best part.” He closed his hands under and around her thighs, so he could drag them up a little higher and spread them a little wider to make more room for himself to maneuver between them.

“I lied, _dammit, edging on the cusp of multiple orgasms is what I want,”_ her voice was nearing a shrill whine and he was grinning and barely restraining some obnoxious laughter. _'Always such an infuriating little rich brat.’_ She groaned, “Give it to me, Harold. Your tongue on my cunt. Get to work! Do your thing! I swear to god, if I’m not rendered completely incoherent within the next five minutes then I will do it myself and force you to watch!”

Harry could no longer hold back his laughter. The humorous sentiment was soul cleansing, he felt almost all of his tension and inhibitions melt away while his shoulders shook with mirth. “Okay, okay, keep your panties on,” he said between chuckles. Then his tone abruptly dropped an octave and took on a mock-dangerous edge that made it seem overtly _aggressive_ and _husky._ “Or better yet, _take them off.”_

“Oh, _finally,”_ MJ said as she raised her hips and finished stripping the last of her clothing. In a fit of impulsive and immature delight, she tossed her wet panties at his face. He caught them, made a disgusting show of smelling them, to which she responded with more laughter as she got comfortable with all her naked glory being spread out on the bed.

 _“Now_ just lie back, close your eyes and let me do the rest,” Harry instructed in that low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.

 _“With pleasure, my love,”_ she readily agreed with a sort of breathless flair that pretended to be moonstruck, as if stupidly in love, although she was not _in love_ . _‘But I do still love him, just not_ like that.’ It was a bittersweet thought that easily floated away from her under these distracting circumstances.

Mary Jane raised both arms above her head, languidly stretching her torso with a happy little arch as she got comfy. Despite the cool air on her skin, she felt warm under the heat of Harry’s gaze. He was so careful and considerate, even when he was near bursting with _need_ from his own pent up arousal, he _always_ put her needs before his own. Her pleasure over his. _And he delighted in it. ‘Such a strange boy,’_ she’d think to herself, _‘so eager to be fucked but somehow still unconcerned with whether or not his own orgasm was ever reached, so long as his partner is satisfied.’_

Harry snapped on a pair of gloves and made quick work of spreading lubrication over Mary Jane’s vulva. He wanted to ensure that the sensations would transfer easily through the barrier once the makeshift dental dam was in place. “I’m all wet for you,” she commented with a sly grin. He covered the area with the glove that he’d cut for this purpose and dabbed just a little more lube onto the outer side which he leaned forward and spread along the surface with his lips. Experimentally, he dipped his tongue into the ‘thumb’ hole that was situated over MJ’s clit. She inhaled sharply in response and then exhaled with a quiet, “ _Mmm,”_ as he withdrew.

Harold proceeded to make a long swipe with his tongue between her folds, starting at the taint and leading up to and swirling around the sensitive bud at the top. The fingers holding the barrier in place were pressing and spreading the outer labia so he could thoroughly lick the opening. He dipped back down and sucked the edges of her inner folds into his mouth, flicking at the flesh with his tongue as he hollowed his cheeks around it. He was rewarded with a soft, _“fuck yeah.”_

Mary Jane was focused on just two things right then, the rhythm of her breathing and the sensations between her legs. Each inhale was heavy and deep, engaging her diaphragm, and ensuring that she had plenty of air in her lungs to make keening and pleading sounds with. Harold always did his best work when she supplied him with ample encouragement, and she was all too happy to provide.

The thorough tongue lashing he gave her alternated between fast darting actions, sucks, kisses, and long strokes forming shapes and letters. He made special notes of which techniques elicited the most desirable reactions and would repeat them several times _at least_ just to be sure. She was particularly responsive when one of his thumbs pressed against her taint; he traced the topmost part of her perineum with his nail and applied a little pressure angling _in_ and _down_ towards her anus. Her toes curled and her hands fisted the sheets while she let out a high pitched moan.  

Between listening to her, touching her, and just _knowing_ that he was responsible for the pleasure she was luxuriating in, Harold was on the cusp of ecstasy _except for one niggling frustration._ Harry’s own arousal was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He was very practiced in ignoring it, but unforgiving pressure of his jeans constricting his engorged genitals was _torture._ He was truly regretting having neglected to even remove his pants at this point. “Shit,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” MJ asked, immediately missing the feeling of having his mouth on her lower lips.

“My pants, why am I still wearing them?” he grumbled, he’d taken to petting her vaginal opening with his thumbs to compensate for the missing warmth of his tongue while he spoke.

 _“Mmm, maybe,”_ the edge of one finger put just the right amount of pressure along her sensitive bud with a fast twitching movement that caused some seriously amazing vibrations. Her train of thought was temporarily interrupted by a rush of pleasure that sent her eyes rolling back in her head. When she regained coherence she cursed, _“fuck, who even cares why?_ Just take them off!” But when his hands removed themselves from her vulva to do just that, she found herself panting and pouting with despair. The sound of his zipper being undone minimally helped to assuage her frustration.

Mary Jane pushed herself up onto her elbows so she could watch as he stood up and pushed both his pants and underwear down, kicking them in his hurry to free himself. MJ licked her lips at the tantalizing sight of his dick springing free. She supposed it probably fell into the range of being average in size, but _‘damn does he know how to use it.’_

Approximately six glorious inches of hard, uncut manmeat. Measuring maybe 1.5 in diameter. The tip was such a pretty pink in color just barely poking out from under a flap of skin just a shade darker than his hands, all flushed from the increase in blood flow. She was sorely tempted to invite him closer so she could trace the prominent veins with her fingers and massage the foreskin with her lips while she suckled at his dick. _But alas,_ it was already dipping out of her sight as he moved back into position on the floor. _‘Maybe later,’_ she thought before her thoughts were once again consumed by the _joys_ of being on the _receiving end_ of oral sex.

After several more minutes focusing his tongue’s efforts drawing the alphabet while he flicked a finger _quickly_ and _repeatedly_ against her clit, he paused. She nearly screamed, but wound up only cursing with an angry pout. _“Fucking hell, goddamn, motherfucker,_ why, oh why? The _fuck did you stop for?”_

He was smiling and quietly laughing in response. MJ dearly would’ve liked to strangle and kiss him right then for being such a sexy and infuriating butthead. _‘Goddamn, mutherfucking tease.’_

“I was just thinking,” he said, and was immediately rewarded for this _totally inappropriate_ behavior by a loud guffaw. “Hey, you know, _the brain is the largest sexual organ.”_

“Is it? I thought skin qualified?” They were both momentarily distracted with this odd pondering.  

“Never mind,” he dismissed that tangent. _“I was thinking_ that I could do more with my hands if they weren’t busy holding the barrier in place.” And he made a good point.

 _'Yes,’_ she mentally agreed, _'This would be much improved with a little finger fucking.’_

“Okay,” she said, “put your fingers inside me, go to town, babe. But no fisting, and keep your tongue on my clit.” She lowered her hands to take over maintaining the thin boundary between his mouth and her cunt.

“Would you like a little backdoor action?” he asked while he snuck two gloved fingers underneath the dental dam to more easily investigate the warm, wet cavern.

 _“Mmm, maybe_ just a finger,” she said after several moments considering it.

After a few firm caresses against her inner walls, the hand withdrew so Harry could add a little more lube to his gloved hands. Then his middle- and fore- finger slipped back inside. He used a little 'come hither’ motion angling up and searching for the bundle of nerves located somewhere under her belly button. Meanwhile, his other hand - which he’d applied very generous amounts of lubricant to - was positioned below and he’d tentatively began tracing the rim of her asshole with the slick fingers.

“Fuck, Hare, _my clit,_ please suck my - _ah,”_ he did as instructed covering the sensitive bud with his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and hollowing out his cheeks to create suction. His thumb took to massaging one of the outer labial folds while he continued searching for her g spot. “So close, just a little deeper, Hare,” MJ encouraged him, “suck a little harder, please,” she gasped as he found it. “Yes!” She nearly shouted and her hips jerked up with such enthusiasm that he nearly fell over from the force of her pelvis grinding into his face.

“Ow, do I need to hold you down?” he complained, but he sounded more amused than upset about it.

“What?” She sounded confused. It took a beat before she realized what she’d done. “Oh, _shit,_ sorry!”

“All good,” he said while he got back into position, happy that he’d found what he was looking for. He continued his ministrations, simultaneously stimulating her clit and g spot. Once she was thoroughly _into it_ and _definitely turned on,_ he poked the middle finger pass the rim and _wiggled_ until he had it lodged inside her butt up to the second knuckle. She shuddered in response, her fingers twitching and almost losing their hold on the dental dam. The thumb on that same hand he was using on her ass shifted to press against her perineum and aid in comfortably holding this position. Then he redoubled his efforts to stimulate her clit and g-spot, content that just the presence of his finger in her ass would be enough to heighten all of the other sensations she experienced.

Through all of this, she gasped, writhed and made embarrassing sounds. Everything he did to her felt wonderful, _'so good, but still not enough.’_ And Harry had actually made a good point when he mentioned the brain acting as a sexual organ. _'Focusing on the physical sensations isn’t going to put me over the edge. There’s a psychological component.’_ The longer she followed this train of thought, the less it sounded like her own internal monologue and the more it took on the tonal qualities of one Gwendolyn Stacy.

 _'Harry and I both have it bad for our baby nerd pals. At least I have the assurance of already knowing definitively that Gwen likes pussy. It’s not a completely wild stretch of the imagination if I close my eyes and pretend that it’s her between my thighs.’_ The imagined blonde hair, blue eyes, and no-nonsense flair of Miss Stacy sent sparks all the way down to Mary Jane’s toes.

Gwen was sure to be almost terrifyingly efficient in the sack, she would easily and probably methodically coax MJ through multiple orgasms with her tongue and her fingers and maybe even a double ended dildo. No fluffy or flowery bullshit, Gwen would treat sex like a science, MJ would still think of it like an art form, but their styles would still somehow manage to mesh so well. Stacy could understand how to take advantage of every natural wonder that their bodies had to offer and MJ would lay back and admire the beauty in all of it.

Harry tried to ignore it when Mary Jane got so caught up that she unintentionally vocalized her fantasy in the form of someone else’s name. _“Oh, god, Gwen.”_ It’s not as if there wasn’t someone else he would rather be with. But he couldn’t very well think of _Peter_ when his face was full of _pussy._ So instead, he just satisfied himself with the knowledge that he was pleasuring one of his best friends. And it felt _so good_ to be useful.

He didn’t stop sucking and finger fucking until one of her hands dropped away from holding the dam in place and pulled on his hair, guiding him to raise his head. He eased his fingers from her holes and licked his lips. “Satisfied?” he asked.

 _“Mm, yes._ Yes, it was,” her tone was light and a little breathless. _“Fuck,_ that was wow.” After several seconds basking in the afterglow, she propped herself up on her elbows trying to get a better view of him. “And how are you holding up?” she asked in a not-so-subtle reference to his penis.

He glanced down at his lap where his excited peen was still standing at full attention, “All good to go if you want to - I mean, may I? Would you mind if I -?” He couldn’t quite decide what exactly he was asking permission for. _'What am I in the mood for? A quick romp would be fun, her pussy is so nice and wet and all ready for me. But I’d also be entirely content just touching myself or getting a handjob.’_

“I could still use a good old fashion fucking,” she commented. “Missionary style? Or would you prefer something else?” He had to think about that for a moment.

“You know, I think I’d rather take you from behind. If that’s okay? It’s easier to get it in a bit _deeper, harder, faster.”_ He almost rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment before he remembered he was still wearing the gloves. He peeled them off.

“Yeah, of course, _that’s why,”_ she had on a knowing smile, “You’re always such a dog.” She was shaking her head with suppressed amusement.

“Ruff,” he playfully barked. “Wanna shift back a bit, so I can join you on the bed?” Mary Jane moved the pillows and towel back. Harry reached down to grab a ribbed condom and MJ touched herself as she waited. Spreading her fingers between her slick folds, rubbing and teasing herself as she watched him. “Should I apply more lube?” He asked while he tore the package open.

“Seriously?” she laughed, “It’s already like a deluge down here. Not necessary.”

“All the same,” he said and tossed the bottle onto the bed next to her. “Let me know if you change your mind. There’s plenty more where that came from, no need to be stingy.”

He carefully pinched the tip and unfurled an inch to check the right direction before touching the latex to his dick. He pulled the foreskin back and rolled the condom into place. Once it was on, he held the base and adjusted the tip of his penis to ensure that the fit was comfortable.

“Ready?” she asked.

“All set!” and he hopped onto the bed while she rolled onto her stomach. He had his hands on her hips as she raised her pert ass up. He gave her some time to get comfortable on hands and knees, fondling her buttcheeks while he waited. “Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, just as she was about to instruct him to put it in. “Just a second,” and he turned round and rummaged in his bag. She looked back over her shoulder, curious as to the reason for the hold up.

When he returned to the bed he had a bullet vibe in a freshly gloved hand. “Just a little something to keep you stimulated,” he said. “Well, for both of us, really. There’s five speeds. Do you want to control it or should I?”

“You just focus on pounding my pussy and grabbing my tits once we get a good rhythm going. I got this.”

He snuck a few more drops of lube on his dick and glove while she tested the different settings. Finally, _finally_ he got himself lined up. Just to be a sexy, bratty jerk, he teased them both by rubbing the tip around the opening.

 _“Fuck, Hare,”_ MJ was cussing and rocking her full body back to encourage him. _“Fuck me, please, shove it inside me.”_

He leaned forward a bit more and reached around with his gloved hand to guide his cock as he slid the whole length between her thighs and pressed against her vulva. She shivered and bucked. His insistence on using an absolute abundance of lubricant made it feel wet and wild and _also so much more frustrating_ because it was that much more difficult to increase the friction. _'Which is hardly reason to complain, it’s sure fun trying and it certainly beats risking injury to my hoo-ha.’_

 _“Oh my god,_ Harry, if you don’t stick your dick inside of me _right now,_ I swear I’ll flip you over and jump you myself.”

“You’d ride me like a pro, I’m sure,” he was grinning, she could hear the smile in his voice. It was so _obnoxious._

“Like a fucking rodeo. And you, the bucking bronco,” she shot back, wiggling her ass and rolling her hips back towards him.

And _'god, he’s such a tease,’_ she thought, while his gloved fingers had slid to spread and tickle her labia while he pressed his shaft against her opening, like a peg bouncing against a hole while stubbornly refusing to properly align itself for entry. He interrupted her amused mental comparison with another irritatingly stupid question, “Is that your way of saying that I’m hung like a horse?”

“Ha,” she shoved her face into the pillow a little harder to muffle the urge to giggle like a complete lunatic. _“Oh, please,_ city boy, do you have any idea just how low to the ground the equine dangle?” He went completely still and her eyes bugged out. _“Jesus, Harry!_ That was a rhetorical question, don’t stop to think about it!”

“Oops, sorry,” he would’ve shrugged and put on a mock innocent expression if she’d been in a position to see it. As it was, she still had her face buried in the pillow and blankets to muffle her groans and curses of frustration.

 _“In that case,_ without any _further_ adieu,” his mock announcer voice was a little over the top, but when MJ felt the length and girth of his cock angling in and pressing against her vaginal walls, she decided that she didn’t mind his silliness so much as long as he still got her off.  

 _“Fucking finally,”_ she gasped. And indeed they were finally fucking. She fisted the sheets and rolled her hips back to meet each thrust. He set a leisurely pace and she remembered the vibrator he'd handed her. She threw it on the medium setting and slid it over and under her bust before pressing it against a perky nipple.

Getting more comfortable and excitable with every stroke, Harry became a little bit bolder by thrusting deeper and harder but not adjusting his speed. He closed his eyes, and for just a little while he thought it would be acceptable to imagine Peter Parker. His brown hair, amber eyes, and shy smile made his heart beat even faster. Or maybe the increased rate had more to do with the strenuous nature of his current activity, it didn't matter. Harry was _in love_ and he wanted to drown in that feeling. His dick definitely agreed, _'Yes, continue these arousing thoughts.’_ Mary Jane had been thinking of Gwen earlier, so surely she wouldn’t mind him thinking about Petey.

 _‘But the situation isn’t directly transferable,’_ Harry’s rhythm faltered, he stilled his movement and leaned forward to kiss MJ’s back while he adjusted. He kicked her legs open a little bit wider and tried to remember which angles she liked the best. _‘It’s not that I wouldn’t love to fuck Peter’s amazing ass, but I would so much rather be in MJ’s position.’_ It made a much prettier picture to think of himself beneath his shy friend. _‘And if I were her, damn,’_ Harry remembered the way Peter always used to fawn over their redheaded friend, so smitten with Mary Jane. _‘If I were her, I could’ve easily seduced him.’_ It would've been so easy, he would've only had to _ask_ and poor, inexperienced Peter would probably be stiff as a board and eager to take his pants off. _'At most, I'd probably just have to flash those huge tits, give them a little bounce, and Parker would fall all over himself to get inside me.'_ This was either a very funny or sad thought, Harold wasn't sure. But Mary Jane sensed his distraction.

 _“Fuck,_ playboy, _say something!"_ she demanded. "Tell me what a dirty whore I am,” she suggested. _'Just start talking and stay focused.'_ She had strong suspicions about where his mind wandered. Frankly, she didn't care until it started to affect his performance. She was a bit of a selfish lover, she would admit to that.

“You’re absolute filth,” he told her. He spread her ass cheeks to get a good view of his cock disappearing inside her. _'This hole must be so convenient, self-lubricating and easily opening wide enough to accommodate with minimal need for stretching in compare to my nasty boypussy.'_ He sighed, twisting the sound into something derisive by saying, “You're not even worthy of a name. _Just a number."_  He thought of himself as he said this, how he had yet to _earn_ his family name. The logical follow-up was to comment on her numerical value."Optimistically, I’ll say you’re an eight, _at best._ But without your makeup or those huge ass tits to distract from your face, it’s only half that.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an asshole!” she shouted, then more quietly, _“Fuck, tell me more._ ”

“Yeah, you like that, _four?_ You like knowing what a _filthy, disgusting_ fuckdoll you are? So ugly that I need to shove your face into the mattress or find a bag for your head just to keep it up while I’m inside you. _”_

 _“Jesus, fuck, you’re mean,”_ she was laughing. She thought this was funny. He was glad, he didn’t want her to take this seriously.

“And you’re so _loose_ and sloppy, soaking wet.” Harry’s gloved hand gathered moisture from her dripping cunt before he reached forward to dangle it in front of her face, “Here, have a taste,” he offered.

 _“Mmm,”_ Mary Jane had her eyes tightly closed as she leaned forward and sucked his fingers into her mouth.

Harry’s pace quickened. He thought of himself, bent over like she was and cleaning cum off Peter’s fingers or _preferably his dick._ He’d eagerly swallow all of Parker’s jizz and lick the boy clean. He’d even fish the juices out from between his ass cheeks if Peter asked him and drink that too. _'So unsanitary. Oh god, I’m so disgusting to even think that, but damn if it doesn't turn me on, true or not.’_

When she released his hand to gasp after a particularly rough thrust, he used it instead to reach under and squeeze her breasts. His thumb rubbed and rolled over a nipple while he attempted to palm the rest of her considerable endowment. He was reminded of his own nipples and how sensitive they could get. He thought of how much Peter might enjoy playing with them, even if only for the amusing ways in which it would make Harry twitch and moan.

Harry wasn’t as soft and curvy as MJ, but he had a nice round ass. Surely that would be enough. He could squeeze him so tight _and damn,_ Harry could feel Mary Jane clench around him. He was getting very close to the edge now.  

 _“Don’t stop, Tiger,”_ she called out to him, and _Tiger_ was her nickname for Peter. _‘Fuck, she knows he’s on my mind right now.’_ She was encouragingly rolling her hips back to meet each thrust. “Tell me - _ah_ \- _fuck, tell me how much you like screwing your sissy boy.”_ Harry moaned, _‘I never should have told her about that kink.’_ But she kept talking, _“Oh, please, Daddy,”_ he shuddered to think of himself in her position, pretending that those words were coming from his mouth. _“Daddy, you fuck me so good. Please, reward me with your cum."_

It only took a few more shaky thrust before he came. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, holding the condom in place as he pulled out. Tied it off with a quick knot and tossed it in the general direction of the nearest wastebasket. Then they both collapsed next to each other, breathing heavy. MJ used the bullet vibe and her own fingers to get herself off a few more times while he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Eating Out" Summary:
> 
> There's a lot of silly foreplay. They use protective barriers (gloves, makeshift dental dam and a condom), plenty of lube and a bullet vibe. There is a very big emphasis on consent, Harry doesn't feel comfortable getting sexy without explicit verbal consent. MJ understands the reasons for this and tries to keep it fun while he reminds her to let him know if she ever gets uncomfortable or wants him to stop. As they finally get to it, he thinks of this as his "true purpose" and is glad for the opportunity to "feel useful" by pleasuring one of his most highly valued friends. 
> 
> Harry is a giver, he gets her off orally, then he fucks her from behind while she uses the bullet vibe to self-stimulate. At different points during the scene, MJ fantasizes about Gwen and Harry fantasizes about Peter. Orgasms for everyone. There's also a lot of not-so-subtle references to Harry's non-binary gender identity (he's self conscious about his sensitive breasts, envious of Mary Jane's curves, feels ashamed of his penis, and even fantasizes about being a girl in the context of imagining himself being in MJ's position while Peter took his place during the vaginal intercourse).
> 
>  ***Additional Note:**  
>  The Author is pretty much virginal, so **go easy on the criticism,** okay? _I did my best,_ and put a lot of time into, um, let's just call it "research." So if at times it sounds a little too weirdly clinical, that's literally because I googled "how-to" and rephrased/combined elements of different online sex ed sources for a few tricky parts. Also, I probably looked at more anatomical diagrams than necessary to be sure that I understood the mechanics of it. (Let me know if you spot any errors!) I just happen to get off on a mixture of technical and slang terms, so I wrote the smut the way I like it. Hopefully I'm not the only one that enjoys this, even if for nothing else than the comedic value of all the stupid foreplay.


	12. Norman Osborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A Talk With Tony**  
>  Characters: Norman Osborn, The Green Goblin (Auditory Hallucination), Tony Stark, Henry Peter Gyrich. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker, Senator Robert Kelly, The Vulture, Doc Ock and Tombstone.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for a mentally ill character with an ambiguous diagnosis and (poorly written) schizophrenic symptoms, Tony drinks champagne, the two billionaires both act like jackasses, and Norman's thoughts in particular are not very nice.  
>  Norman is at a fancy party, looking for Henry Gyrich and Tombstone. Tony stops by to taunt him, telling him about how he recruited Peter and Spider-Man.
> 
>  **A Talk With Tombstone**  
>  Characters: Norman Osborn, The Green Goblin (Auditory and Visual Hallucination), L. Thompson Lincoln (AKA Tombstone). Additionally, mentions of The Vulture and Hammerhead.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** (poorly written) schizophrenic symptoms, threats are heavily implied.  
>  Tombstone and Norman Osborn discuss Norman's connection to The Green Goblin and appear to agree that Gobby is a mutual threat. They begin conspiring together.
> 
>  **Norman Osborn Talks to Himself**  
>  Norman Osborn and The Green Goblin have a quick chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this story, seriously, let me know. Drop a comment, even if it's just, "I enjoyed this!" Because I'm a whore for praise and it inspires me to write faster. Also, thank Ryzal for being amazing! He's been spectacularly helpful in keeping me motivated and letting me bounce all my crazy ideas off of him! Thank-you <3

#### Norman Osborn Talks With Tony,

The party was already in full swing by the time that Norman Osborn arrived. Which was just as well, these events were rarely ever very interesting. He just needed to make a quick appearance and zero in on a handful of guests in particular. He scanned the floor, keeping an eye out for the notorious L. Thompson Lincoln. { _" **AKA Tombstone, The Big Man,**_ "} announced a wicked voice. The Goblin was in a belligerent mood tonight, upset with being reduced to passing idle commentary, and denied the opportunity to soar across the city wreaking havoc. { _"This is so boring,_ "} he complained, { _" **We should be out smashing the Spider instead**._ "}

 _'Quiet. I told you not to bother me when I’m working,’_ Norman scowled at the way Gobby continued to whine, { _"Aw, li’l Normie is no fun anymore._ "}

The OsCorp CEO kept his posture straight and stiff, willing himself to ignore the intrusions and focus on locating Henry. He had plans which required his business attire tonight, and the flamboyant, flagrant chaos of his villainous counterpart would just have to wait.

Across the room, he finally found Henry. A young up-and-comer on the political circuit, on a career trajectory steeped in fanatical vigor, and built on the wealth of his family and university contacts. Henry was tall, slim, with dark hair, glasses and a relatively handsome face when it wasn't twisting with rage.

Henry Peter Gyrich, Senator Robert Kelly’s Chief of Staff, a staunch critic of Tony Stark and a known opponent of the superhuman community. More importantly, a potentially very useful pawn in Norman’s plans. An ambitious man entrenched in the world of bureaucratic inefficiency and frustrated with the inadequacies of the government’s abilities to handle threats posed by the new rising class of ‘supervillains’ and their equally, if not more, dangerous 'heroic’ counterparts.

First and foremost, Henry has access to classified information through his connections to the Senator and a few dozen NSA, CIA, and other governmental contacts that he’s acquired during his personal quest to gain support for the Avenger’s Accords and proposed Superhuman and Vigilante Registration Acts. Norman would be able to use Henry's help to chip away at Stark's empire and reputation. Optimistically, there would be opportunities to secure defense contracts and perhaps even develop his own part in overseeing a replacement to the now defunct S.H.I.E.L.D.

When Norman caught Henry's eye, he winked. It wouldn't be long before the eager boy would disentangle himself from his current conversation and make his own way to Norman's side. Meanwhile, Norman kept glancing around the room for...  { _" **The Big Guy**_ ,"} Goblin supplied a humorous little chuckle, { _" **will have to wait.** Iron Dick is coming, ha ha hah_."}It took effort not to glower at this unwelcome sight, as Anthony Stark was indeed fast approaching.

 _“Aha!"_ the hero proclaimed in victory at having found his rival. _"Normie,_ I was wondering if you’d ever crawl out from your cave long enough to join the party. _Even you need to get out and loosen up every once in awhile, eh?”_ Tony's tie was haphazard and he had a drink in each hand. Norman was feeling anxious to dismiss him before his spritely other half would use this as an excuse to create an amusing distraction that could jeopardize his larger goals for the evening.

“Anthony, I hardly think this is an appropriate occasion for that,” Norman replied keeping his body half-turned away from Stark, still intent on remaining open in encouraging Gyrich to get his pasty little white ass over here.

Unfortunately, Tony persisted in annoying him by offering Norman a champagne flute, “Come on, _live a little, Normie-kins._ It’s all for a good cause!” but as he said this, Stark didn't seem so sure of that. _"I think, eh, probably,"_ he muttered under his breath. When Norman ignored the proffered drink, Stark finished it and set the empty glass aside.

{ _"Ah, he's forgotten what this event is even for. How typical,_ "} Goblin’s hypercritical commentary continued to step on Norman's nerves. “And do you even remember which cause that is?” he asked aloud, intending the question for the intrusive voice just as much as Stark, because truthfully, he himself had already forgotten. Whatever lousy charity it was seemed fairly inconsequential, all he’d really cared about was the guest list.

His question was met with a half-hearted shrug and a smug grin. “Cause for celebration, as far as I’m concerned," Tony's happy sentiment was undercut as he leaned forward to disparage in a loud, harsh whisper, _"All of us wealthy bastards need to make ourselves look all good and charitable, eh? I mean, that is why you’re here, right?"_ He continued with a short scoff, "It’s certainly not because an uptight, cruel industrialist such as yourself really cares about the little people and all their petty problems.”

{ _"For a genius, he's so small minded. Thinking to reduce the benefits of these events to public image alone, eh, Normie?_ "} Osborn's eyes had narrowed and his jaw tightened. Between Stark’s impetuous babble and his auditory hallucinations, he was developing a headache. He stubbornly glanced away from his _awful_ conversational companion in favor of feigning momentary interest in some minor commotion across the banquet hall.

 _'Stark's supposed genius is largely wasted, doused in alcohol, obsessed with chasing tail and preoccupied with minor tinkering. He does not think big enough,'_ Norman quietly agreed with what his delusion had been saying. Although, none of that would be particularly bothersome to Norman if Stark's acquisitions didn't continuously squander talent and resources that would have better served OsCorp.

{ _"Oh, and not to mention the superhero antics, luring invading aliens to our city_ ,"} Gobby reminded him, { _" **Very bothersome**_."} Amidst the mental ramblings, Norman realized he'd let the silence linger so long that he risked allowing Tony to think he’d won this round. He consciously willed himself to relax his posture as he cut his eyes back to his opponent.  

“I do believe you were merely projecting your own frivolous rationale, Stark." Tony pretended not to be affronted by this, but Norman's keen senses picked up on the way he stood a little more rigid in response, all wound up despite the effects of his champagne. Norman continued, "While I am normally quite comfortable making quiet contributions, I’ve deigned to join this particular evening for the networking opportunities.” Stark seemed inordinately pleased with this turn in the conversation, which was something Osborn immediately hoped to find some means of rectifying.

Norman raised an impeccable brow to say, "Perhaps I could give you a few pointers," his voice dropped a bit lower, so as not to be overheard by any easily offended parties, _"_ _the first tip is to talk to more than the bartender and every nice set of tits._ " Stark barely suppressed a small burst of laughter. Meanwhile, Gobby’s raucous amusement was accompanied by a phantom tugging sensation on the corner of Osborn's lips, tempting him to smile despite himself. His mouth twisted into a frown when he realized that the Goblin was subtly attempting to influence his physical behavior.

 _'Go. Away. I can handle this myself. Alone.’_ Norman struggled to clear his mind of this lingering disturbance. The pesky little imp was especially difficult to shake when he made the mistake of feeding it any sort of encouragement. _'Damn troll,'_ he wanted to grumble, but instead he gave into his alter ego's suggestion.For appearances sake, he played along with the game and graced his hated rival with a _mock_ -friendly smile.

“Ha! What do _I_ need to network for?” Stark happily announced, “All of the talent and genius _naturally_ finds its way to me.” Tony was grinning like he had a secret trump card up his sleeve. He hummed to draw out the moment and build anticipation before speaking again just as Norman was getting ready to interject with some haughty insult. “Oh, _for example,_ perhaps you’ve heard of an exceptional young student and photographer by the name of _Peter Parker.”_ Tony may as well have just poured a bucket of ice water over Osborn’s head.

 _‘Peter Parker._ My Peter Parker _has been recruited by Tony Stark?’_ Just then Norman wanted to slap the smile off that infuriating man’s face nearly as much as the Goblin, but he kept his face carefully impassive as he attempted to quell the building rage. It was difficult to say exactly where this surge of possessiveness had come from. His claim to the boy was tenuous at best, but Peter was the sort of son Norman wished he had. He thought they shared a special kinship. He had often thought he could personally relate, seeing much of his younger self in the boy and ached to see him properly trained. Peter Parker was the heir that Norman Osborn _deserved_. Unlike Harold, Peter Parker had potential that might one day prove him worthy of carrying on the Osborn legacy.

 _‘_ _No,_ definitely not like Harry, _at all,_ if he’s proven to be so _disloyal.’_ Blind, stupid faith and obedience were Harold's only _reliable_ strengths, as far as his father could tell. Servile, useful as a pawn, but _not_ the sort of man that Norman wanted to eventually hand down the reign of his empire to.

{" **Make them suffer for this,** "} the Goblin growled.  {"Stark and Parker are both _conspiring_ together, _against you._ **They want to hurt you.** _ **Hurt them back.**_ **Harder.** "}

Norman had to force down his anger for the moment, he needed to continue this conversation as if nothing was wrong. With a touch of humor sneaking into his tone, he incredulously asked, “So you’re recruiting _children_ now?”

Tony was visibly disappointed at how well Osborn was keeping it together. He had been _so sure_ that he’d get Norman’s goat with this news. Stark was damn near pouting when he replied, “My sources said you expressed an interest in mentoring him.”

Norman allowed himself a small laugh at Stark’s expense. “And which sources were these?” The tone clearly denoted skepticism as to the veracity of these claims. _‘If Tony thought to hire him only to piss me off, then I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me bothered by this.’_ Later, of course, he may yet smash some very expensive things or _more likely_ he’ll break the bones of whatever poor, unfortunate soul next wanders into the Goblin’s path of destruction. _A thought that pleased his green alter ego immensely._

Tony’s eyes lit up, _again_ with more mischief. Norman thought to prepare himself better this time, to not let whatever this barely functional alcoholic had to say rile him. “That would be my other new recruit,” he said, and Tony’s voice was filled with so much disgusting pride that it nearly made Osborn feel sick. He bit the inside of his cheek and gave Stark an expectant look, inviting him to elaborate. Tony glanced down at his sparkling bubbly, taking a sip and savoring the flavor of his rival’s obvious irritation. _‘Delicious.’_ Stark nearly crooned with delight.

 _“Oh,”_ this awful man even managed to _sigh_ _obnoxiously,_ “just Your Friendly Neighborhood _Spider-Man.”_ The _knowing_ grin on Stark's face caused Norman to wonder for a terrifying moment whether or not somehow Iron Man had deduced his connection to the Green Goblin, to _know_ how much he would be irked at hearing this news. But his worry didn’t last for long as Tony continued talking, “I believe you two have already met, haven’t you? Back when he was saving your ungrateful hiney from the Vulture and Doc Ock?” Of course, that was all, the only connections Stark could possibly know of. Norman’s relief was as carefully hidden as his earlier anger.

“Have there been any other more recent criminals crawling out of OsCorp?” Tony asked with a smirk. Norman drew in a sharp breath, wanting badly for a chance to eviscerate the cheeky bastard for that insinuation. Tony hastily brushed the errant thought aside. _“Oh, never mind,_ as I was saying, _Petey_ was always chasing after old Underoos and taking pictures. Even with a long scope lense the poor kid was winding up in some _sticky_ situations. So Spidey decided to look into him, they got to talking, you know, _science nerds.”_

 _“Does this rambling story eventually lead anywhere?”_ Norman asked, he was becoming very impatient. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Gyrich moving in their direction.

 _“Ah, well,”_ Tony continued almost as if Norman hadn’t said anything. “When word got back to me that _you_ were tainting the impressionable minds of some gifted youth, I couldn't just stand idly by while you corrupted such a sweet, smart boy like Petey with your tutelage.”

Norman was glowering by this point. Simmering with quiet rage, he prompted Tony to finish his story, “So you stepped in _and?”_

“And offered the boy a job.” Tony happily raised his glass with this statement. After taking a long sip to empty his second flute of champagne, Tony shrugged. Pretending to amicably lean in and whisper a secret to old Normie-kins, Tony said, “I thought I’d let you know, _in case your son hadn't already._ Figured you’d find out eventually _and I wanted to be there_ to see your face.” There was a long drawn out emphasis on the last four words. Stark wanted to drink in his rival’s ire.

But Norman’s face turned to metaphorical stone, hard and unforgiving. “So you've stolen my mentee out from under me. I am so utterly devastated,” Norman’s words were completely at odds with the unaffected tone of voice he used. “Now you hope to - _what exactly?”_ He raised a brow and gave a small, conceited sniff to express his disdain for Stark’s pety poor attempt at playing mind games.

Getting frustrated with Norman’s impersonal mask, Tony grumbled back, “Just to use this tidbit as another excuse to remind you that _while you may be one of the_ _wealthiest_ donors in the room, _I_ can still _see right through you._ I know under all pretenses you’re morally bankrupt, and _no_ amount of money can ever make up for that.”

“Pot, kettle, Mr. Stark,” Norman hissed back just as Henry Gryrich came to stand behind and slightly to the right of Tony Stark. It was high time Norman allow himself to vent some of his anger. _‘May as well take advantage of this opportunity to put on a little show for Henry. It could save some time later, if I can make my point now.’_

Norman fixed Tony with his full attention. The Goblin had _thankfully_  settled down somewhere in the back of his mind, cool and confident in Norman’s ability to fight this particular battle on his own. _And also so dreadfully tired of this conversation._ { _"_ _No boom, no bang, no blood, no fun, **why even bother?**_ "}it quietly lamented in the form of a distant echo that was easily ignored.

“I seem to recall a time not too long ago when you were running the helm of a _lethal_ empire. _A merchant of death,_ and what’s more - _now_ you’ve taken the weapons into your own hands to wage war with a bunch of freaks masquerading as heroes? _Avengers,_ you call yourselves.”

 _“We’ve saved the world. More than once._ From what I hear, you have half a mind to try and take my place in the arms market.”

“It’s a dangerous world we live in. So I consider it my _responsibility_ to step in and manufacture arms to help prevent more of the global chaos you and _your friends_ have a tendency to incite.”

“Those _incidents,”_ Tony interrupted in an effort to defend himself, but Norman would not allow him to say anymore.

 _“May not have been_ entirely _of your own making,_ but you certainly had more than just a hand in stirring the pot. Your _miraculous_ success in surviving the fallout so far may only be thanks to _good luck_ and the general public’s misguided desire to see you as a savior. How long can you hope that this will last? As the disasters _literally_ keep piling up on your doorstep? Was it my own imagining or wasn’t Stark Tower at the very epicenter of an alien invasion and the rise of Ultron.”

Tony’s face twisted with guilt at the mention of Ultron and his earlier happy mood was completely forgotten.

“As for Peter Parker. He is a smart boy, but unreliable. From what I gather, he can hardly keep his head on straight these days. Good luck wrangling that genius," Norman scoffed. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” Osborn readied himself to walk away, motioning for Henry to follow him, “There are other guests I’d like to speak with. Enjoy your drinks and babes, Tony. For you, I suspect the party is nearly over.”

Stark didn’t want to let Norman have the last word, but he was also definitely _not_ in the mood to have _that_ argument tonight. It would take too much effort to set the record straight. Frankly, Tony wasn’t actually sure the truth would necessarily weigh in his favor. He’d been reckless, stupid and he'd made some terrible mistakes. Other people had suffered for those mistakes. Stark still wasn’t sure what the _right_ choices would've been, given what he knew then or even what he knows now.  

The only highlight of this stupid party was bragging about his new recruits and really rubbing it in Norman's face that Peter was more interested in having Iron Man as a mentor. Despite how well Osborn had hidden his hurt, Tony was still _sure_ that he’d struck a nerve.

 _'Hm, and Peter wants me to play nice with the Junior Sociopath. No, sure, Pete, I’ll just go ahead and invite the obvious evil degenerate son of Satan into my home, no problem.’_ Tony pasted on a fake cheery smile as he made his way towards the exit. _'Oh, I’ll make sure that little spy, Harold Osborn has plenty to run home and tell Daddy about. I’ll prove to Peter that neither of them can be trusted.’_

Meanwhile, Norman and Gyrich found themselves a relatively quiet corner. Not so far from the party as to seem suspiciously intimate, but enough to ensure a little more privacy.

“There was something you were hoping to discuss with me, Gyrich?” Norman asked. He was happy to note that Tony was making a quick departure. _‘That_ Iron Clown _had probably only dropped by with the intention of taunting me,’_ Norman thought as he watched Tony’s swift walk towards the exit. { _"_ _What_ _an Iron Ass!_ "} a tittering giggle erupted, { _"maybe you should try flirting next time, I think perhaps all he really wants is some nasty, angry sex._ "}

 _“Yes,”_ Henry was straining to keep his inflection _appropriate_ for their current setting. Norman tried not to be startled by that, knowing that Henry couldn’t possibly have heard the Goblin’s suggestion. He’d gotten so distracted that he'd almost forgotten asking Gyrich a question.

“But I had hoped that we would be able to _speak_ together in private,” Henry was giving him bedroom eyes as he said this. _'Horny fool is so easily seduced by the barest suggestion of my interest in using him.’_ Norman faintly wondered if he should tread carefully, lest the pathetic simpleton become too _greedy and demanding_ in his pursuit of continuing this affair.

Norman’s smile was confident, his voice all-business as he said, “I’ve already made arrangements, if you would like to meet with me tonight.” Of course, there was no real need to worry that Gyrich would overstep his boundaries. Norman was always the one in control. Henry wouldn’t dare cross him.

“Tonight,” Gyrich agreed, locking eyes with the older man and licking his lips.  { _"So eager,_ "} Gobby cooed in Norman’s ear, and he almost felt a tickle on the back of his neck.  { _"What special quality riles them so much that they all want to fuck with you?_ **Be _fucked_** **by you.** _Hm? I think you must remind them all of their fathers._ So stern, so strict, and firm with the little boys. _Aw, my li’l Normie, all grown up and continuing the cycle of abuse. **Smack him one good for me,** right on his round lil tushie, Normie, darling_."}

But the Goblin’s inane commentary went completely ignored, Osborn’s face and body language remaining completely unaffected by the babble, through sheer force of will and many years of practice. Norman’s poker face was so effective, it may even beat out wearing a mask.

As he shook hands with Gyrich, Norman discretely passed him a keycard and whispered the room number in his ear. He pretended not to notice the way Henry’s hand lingered a little too long and an errant thumb sought to caress him as they pulled away from each other.

With Henry taken care of for the moment, Norman Osborn went off in search of _The Big Man._

#### Norman Osborn Talks With Tombstone,

After he located Mr. Lincoln, they shared a significant look from across the room, and Lincoln directed one of his associates to inform Norman Osborn of the private room intended for their meeting. _‘Best not to be seen together if we can help it, given the sort of allegations we're both trying to dodge. Although, I hardly think this is subtle.’_ Upon being given the instructions, Norman left the party and did his own thorough sweep of the room.

The Goblin couldn’t help but keep reminding Norman that they needed to destroy Mr. Lincoln, kill him, keep him quiet.  { _"He knows too much._ **He’s dangerous.** _He wants to hurt you._ **He’ll ruin everything.** _Loose ends need to be dealt with, Normie, you know that._ **Leave nothing left but his namesake,** _if even that._ No, **_why bother?_** Make the man disappear _entirely. **Kaboom!** Bang! _ One big burst of flame and _The Big Guy_ need never be heard from again! _**Kill him,** Normie. _**Do it.** _Now, now, now._ "}

 _'Silence, Troll.’_ Norman raised a hand to briefly massage his left temple. The ache in his head had returned with a vengeance, particularly concentrated behind his eyes. With every incessant whisper it got worse. _'I have this situation under control,’_ he reassured himself. Norman was confident that he could handle this without getting blood on his nice suit. _'There will come a time to dispense with Tombstone, but not yet. He’s still more formidable than you realize.’_

{ _"You’re stronger, faster, more cunning and ruthless. You make this too complicated when the answer is simple. Just kill him!_ "}

 _'Not yet. For now, I intend to play it smart, play it safe. Place the cloak before the dagger. You’ll have your chance to stab him in the back later. He’s obviously not a mere human, and we don’t yet fully understand the nature of his enhancements. Besides, dealing with the devil we know is likely better than whatever degenerate he may have groomed to take his place. He is the only thing that keeps his organization in any semblance of order. If he is gone, chaos will erupt before I have fully ascended. And you cannot possibly appreciate how damaging an uprising in the streets would be to my_ legitimate _ventures.’_

Reluctantly, the voices seemed to abate, relegated to quiet _‘boo’s_ and hissing sounds. There was an odd flicker of light seeming especially shiny and with no apparent source, as if there were an apparition in the room. Norman wasn’t sure at first if this was real or not, though the fact that it took on a greenish hue was a big clue.

As L. Thompson Lincoln finally made his entrance, Norman eyed him carefully from across the room. He paid close attention to Lincoln’s lack of reaction, just to be sure, and decided it must be nothing. _‘Probably just my mind playing more tricks on me. No need to worry about that light anymore than the Goblin’s persistent nagging.’_ The two guards flanking Tombstone stepped back into the hall after receiving a small nod from their boss, who shut the door behind them. Once they were alone, the door securely locked against intrusion, Norman broke the silence.

"So we're no longer bothering with a middleman now?” He was cross with the pale businessman. It was Lincoln that had invited him to this event, wanting to speak in person, and Norman did not appreciate being called out to meet with a man under criminal investigation. The small modicum of privacy and subterfuge did not reassure Osborn that their meeting would go unnoticed by all of the _dozen_ different government agencies still monitoring Mr. Lincoln’s activities.

“There are serious _concerns_ that I don’t trust middle management to properly address. I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt, Mr. Osborn, but to do that I thought it best to see you myself. Face to face, to clear the air of any miscommunications before we can entertain the possibility of establishing a new intermediary.” _Ah,_ Tombstone wasn’t sure if the damage from Hammerhead’s betrayal was limited to the Valentine’s Day Summit or if perhaps that ugly stooge had taken measures to disseminate misinformation or otherwise taint his contacts prior to that disastrous evening.

“Whatever happened to your right hand flat top?" He asked, in reference  to Hammerhead, Tombstone’s former number two, their old go-between. Of course, the Green Goblin already knew the answer to that. He had been the one to manipulate Hammy into betraying Tombstone when he arranged for three of the biggest Crime Lords in New York to have an epic showdown that dragged them all into view of the public, irreparably damaging Mr. Lincoln’s carefully crafted public persona.

Optimistically, he had hoped that they would all kill each other, but Spider-Man had intervened and kept the damage to a minimum. Still, it was enough exposure to send Doctor Octavius and Silvermane back to prison, while L. Thompson Lincoln’s operations were crippled after being placed under heavy surveillance.

'Crippled _, but not entirely defeated. They still function well enough to be bothersome. Tombstone knows how to play the long game, keeping his head down, conserving resources, finding powerful new recruits and leverage.’_ It would be terribly unwise to take the Goblin’s suggestion and attempt to rush him. Norman had already made the mistake of underestimating his timid former scientist, Dr. Otto Octavius, it was lucky that insufferable _genius_ never deduced that it was Osborn that had tried to kill him by interfering with his nuclear experiment. Making the same sort of folly with a man like Tombstone would likely have far more… _permanent_ consequences than the minor nuisance of Doc Ock’s bumbling _‘Master Plans.’_

Tombstone’s face had hardened at the mention of Hammerhead. "He is no longer under my employ. Should you hear from him..." the implication was clear, even if Norman hadn’t already known the details.

"I'll let you know. Now, what was it that you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Word on the street is that your little _science experiments_ have continued under new management." _Ah,_ yes, Molten Man had made quite a bit of a noise when he got dragged off to prison. Stupid kid wouldn't have known that Osborn had anything to do with it. The scientists involved in the project wouldn’t have dared to cross Osborn or the Goblin. Blackie Gaxton could have spread the word of Norman's involvement, the bookie was only out for himself, but he was also probably too smart to risk double crossing a homicidal lunatic. _Then again,_ the Goblin was not very subtle, and how many other mad scientists out there have both the genius and wherewithal to play god by creating supervillains so easily? So perhaps it was just an obvious leap of logic for Tombstone to make the connection to OsCorp. There was hardly any use in wasting time denying it.

"Why should this even concern you? So long as my little projects keep your _competition_ distracted, we both stand to profit."

"The competition has grown since our last dealings. As you know, my new... limitations have threatened my preeminent status in this new economy." Norman knew all too well both the cause and _the scope_ of these 'limitations.’

"And why should this concern me?" Norman asked.

"Because this green competitor doesn't play by our rules. It wasn't that long ago that you reassured my former associate that you had no dealings with this man. That you considered him a mutual threat."

"And I still do," Norman sought to reassure him, _"Believe me,_ I would rather work with you, but I simply cannot abide by your current circumstances." He saw this was not going to be enough to convince Mr. Lincoln that his intentions had been - _well, not good,_ obviously, _but at least not counter to using basic common sense_. A quick decision needed to be made, what other explanation could he offer for his dealings with a crazed psycho that he had previously made claim to have a grudge against? The Goblin had attacked one of his scientists, wrought destruction in OsCorp facilities, stole tech and jeopardized his projects. What possible justification could he have for working with this lunatic?

Norman covered his face with one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and pressing his knuckles against his brow, where he could still feel his headache building.{ _"I've threatened you,_ "}the Goblin supplied. { _"You would never trust a bribe from the likes of me, what could I even offer a man such as yourself? No, **I must've threatened you.**  Normie, you know exactly what you must say, _**if _you still insist on playing it safe._** "}

Norman allowed his guard to slip just enough to appear visibly distressed. His anguish at having to resort to this tactic was enough that he didn't have to pretend, only needed to resist the reflexive urge to _hide_ his discontent. "Besides even that, _with the situation as it is,_ I -" he hesitated, biting his lip to keep from cursing at the Goblin for suggesting this ruse. "I cannot afford to refuse this man's business."

“And what _situation_ is that, exactly?” Tombstone leaned forward, scrutinizing the display of weakness, searching for any indication that this was some sort of misdirection, but he saw none that he could be certain of. He regarded the loss of Osborn's usual bravado to be highly suspect.

He knew Norman Osborn to be a very stubborn man. The type that wouldn't even flinch if someone held a gun to his head. _'Or dangled him forty stories high, soaring above the city and threatening to drop him.'_ That incident with the Vulture had been very _telling_ , even if he hadn't been there to see it himself. Tombstone had heard the story as old man Toomes had described it to his cellmates. Word got around prison and passed on high to him about a billionaire so stupidly stubborn that he would rather belittle the deranged man holding his  _life_ in his hands rather than attempt to negotiate. _'What could the Goblin possibly do to rattle such a man?'_

With a defeated sigh, Norman met Lincoln's cruel eyes. His voice was quiet and almost tentative as he said, “I have precious few family left.” The glimmer of grief and concern that Tombstone observed in Norman's blue eyes was achingly sincere, perhaps even more than Osborn himself realized.  _'Harry is_ all _that I have left.'_   His other relatives were distant and he preferred not to speak with any of them if they could be avoided. A fact he was sure the Crime Boss already knew, though he'd never mentioned Harold to this man before. He wouldn't have had to, it was this man's _business_ to exploit people's vulnerabilities. That Tombstone had never tried to threaten Harry before was probably a testament to how cold and uncaring Norman was prone to behave. Well, that or the fact that threats were not previously necessary to reach his desired ends when he'd had better means to acquire Norman's cooperation. 

“Your son.” L. Thompson Lincoln was carefully attentive to the flash of immediate and immense _regret_ on Norman's face when he said this. There was a heavy silence while Tombstone considered this. He generally regarded it as bad business to threaten families, particularly children, if it could be avoided. People became very stupid, reckless and unpredictable when their loved one's lives were on the line. It was messy and inspired more fear and anger than respect - forever tainting any working relationship.

Unfortunately, his business was in a steep decline, taking a heavy hit from both the heroes and the new gangs attempting to force him out. _'I can't afford to go soft, much as I loathe to consider this, it may be my best option to keep Osborn on my side or at least convince him to stay out of my way.'_

Osborn's mind was busy conjuring images of his son being dragged away at gun point, tied in chains, thrown in a trunk, riddled with bullets, dropped in a ditch or sinking to the bottom of a river. _'I shouldn't be dragging the boy into this. He's going to get hurt.'_  Imagining the loss hurt more than he expected it to, in ways that he scarcely even considered before he foolishly took the imp's suggestion. In this moment, he was afraid, but not of Tombstone's threats. The flickering emerald light was beginning to take the shape of a gremlin. Norman feared that his control of the Goblin was slipping.

{ _"_ ** _Too late._** _Better him than us._ **Our plans are more important. _There was no better excuse,_ _genius,_** "}  the smug tone of the green beast disturbed him. { _"He's only a stupid stooge, anyway_ ,"} Gobby reminded him. { _"or so you keep insisting..._ "}

Norman had to clench his fists resolutely against his sides to keep from reaching out in vain or trying to strangle the stone cold killer across from him. His gaze was fixed over in Tombstone's direction to suppress his reaction to the Green Goblin's _presence_ in the room. _'I didn't waste seventeen years raising him to just throw my investment away like this. Mentioning him like this is practically tantamount to painting a target on his back and pushing him out into a shooting gallery.'_ He was both glad for Tombstone's contemplative silence and angry with the Crime Boss for dragging out this moment. He itched to pull his blank mask back into place, but he needed to sell the story now that the damage was already done.

“Harold is hardly fit to fend for himself. He's defenseless against the likes of this - _this homicidal freak show._  There's only so much I can do to protect Harry, and he is my _only_ child. _You must understand._ I would do whatever is necessary to protect him," fierce worry and even a hint of desperation bled into Norman's tone. 

Lincoln was unable to sense a lie in this, because there was none to find. Norman already knew the threat that the Goblin posed to Harry, and knew it very well since before his son even learned to walk. The gremlin had always wanted to hurt whatever displeased him, and had often tempted Norman to violently silence his baby's cries. He'd often had to leave Harry in the care of nannies, butlers and tutors to ensure his safety, lest he risk losing himself to the Goblin's suggestions during a moment of weakness.

 _“I understand,"_ Lincoln told him, "And I won't begrudge you for acting out of fear for the consequences," his well-meaning business like tone suddenly dropped into something deeper and much more sinister, "but I shouldn’t have to remind you that I still have means for seeking similar retribution, _restrictions be damned._ Allying yourself with this _wild card_ will not protect you or your son.” The warning was enough to bring Osborn back to his senses, reminding him that the current threat was in front of him and he would have to find better ways to manage his creeping alter ego  _later._ For now, he needed to focus on Tombstone. 

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Lincoln?” Norman asked, and his fear seemed to have vanished. He was all bravado, brash and overconfident again. Attempting to stare down his opponent. The change was so sudden that Tombstone was tempted to laugh. Lincoln had already seen a chink in Norman's armor and he was metaphorically sharpening his blade and preparing to take aim. 

 _“Do you feel threatened?”_ Tombstone’s tone was dangerous. Norman felt as though his skin was crawling. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Goblin creeping closer, bearing sharp teeth and talons. He knew it was a delusion, but it went beyond his sight and sounds. The Goblin wasn't just in front of him, it was _inside him_ _,_ and it was attempting to claw through his flesh and free itself to seek vengeance, or so he imagined. _'It's not real.'_ Norman took a deep, steadying breath.  _'I'm the one in control,'_ he reminded himself, and he felt himself bursting with sudden rage at being forced into this position.

“What would you have me do?” Norman’s voice was angry now. He'd already made himself seem vulnerable enough, but it would be completely out of character if he allowed this pale thug to walk all over him. He may have feared the Goblin's willingness to hurt his innocent child, but he could still bear his fangs against other predators that would try to hunt him down.  

There was a tense silence. Both men carefully assessing one another. 

"Help me take the Goblin down," L. Thompson Lincoln was done beating around the bush. He was glad to see Norman's composure return, if only for the fact that he thought he could reason with him better in this state.  

The apparition of the moss colored gremlin was still dancing in the corner of Norman's vision. It laughed, loud and shrill. { _" **Oh, Normie**!_ "} it said, { _" **What** **fun this game is**!"_ } Osborn had to suppress a smile. His expression turned pensive.

"How?" he tempered his sudden enthusiasm with a wary sort of hesitance. _'Yes, tell me how exactly you plan to take me down...'_

**Norman Osborn Talks to Himself,**

When Tombstone and Osborn wrapped up their meeting, they had set plans to share information while they conspired against their green foe.

“I’ll show myself out,” Norman Osborn’s poker face was impenetrable as he excused himself. Before he left the building entirely, he found himself facing a bathroom mirror and trying to will the visual hallucination away. It stared at him from over his shoulder, leaning towards his ear and whispering.

{" _He’s suspicious, doesn’t believe you. **He won't trust**_ **you** ,"} the Goblin taunted him. 

_'He expects a double cross, certainly, but he does not suspect the truth.'_

{ _"What's the difference? **He intends to harm you.** Whatever plans you share, he wont tell you everything, there will be contingencies_."}

_'He will attempt to set a trap, but I will be ready for him. I can be sneaky, too.'_

{ _"And when he attacks Harry? **You know he will.** After the way you dangled the boy like bait in front him._ "} The Goblin's shrill laughter was especially grating tonight. Norman felt sick.

Norman kept his eyes fixed in front of him and focused on his remaining objectives. _He was exhausted._  He wanted for nothing more than his bed, but there was still much to do tonight.

{ _"Catch that second wind quick, Normie. Henry is not going to fuck himself. Or, well, I guess he probably would, he may even be doing it right now. He definitely seems the type that would get impatient waiting for you to show the fuck up._ "} 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With regards to the first part, Norman's talk with Tony Stark, I wanted to clearly establish several things. **(1)** Their rivalry, mutual dislike, and the fact that they are _both_ suspicious of each other's motives. Norman truly believes that Tony is more of a threat to global security than he is any sort of hero. He considers him reckless and dangerous. 
> 
> **(2)** Meanwhile, Tony thinks that Norman is probably a sociopath, an asshole, totally out for himself, and just a huge jackass that totally gets on his nerves without even having to say or do anything! Norman just oozes so much class and charisma that it irks the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist who basically thinks that he owns the spotlight and how dare this stupid meanie pull focus and convince the other kids to break/steal his toys (by which, I mean, Norman has been stealing his business and using political friends to fuck with Tony's hugely dangerous and destructive toys). Okay, so maybe I didn't manage to fit quite all of that into the dialogue, _but I tried._
> 
>  **(3)** Norman is possessive of Peter Parker. He likes Peter and wants to groom him as a potential heir. He's really upset about Stark recruiting him, and you can expect Norman/Green Goblin to seek out some revenge for this perceived slight.
> 
>  **(4)** This story follows the events of The Avengers, Age of Ultron, and Civil War. Iron Man is still grappling with the consequences their heroics have had on civilian populations. He feels guilty about some of the decisions he's made and may still be partially inclined to agree with the assertion that there should be some form of oversight for Super-Heroes/Vigilantes.
> 
> As for the second part, oh man, there's a lot going on there trying to establish what's going on in New York's Criminal Underworld right now and the status of the gang war between Tombstone and The Green Goblin. 
> 
> **_*Relating to the Mental Health Issues:_** I would like to tread carefully in describing Norman Osborn's mental illness. If you have any tips about how I can describe the symptoms of schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, depression, mania, and split personality issues while trying to be respectful of those that really experience these things, _please comment!_
> 
> Keeping in mind that Norman Osborn's condition is exasperated by extreme levels of stress (personal trauma, his high-power job and criminal activities factor in hugely here) as well as by the Goblin Formula that enhanced his strength, stamina and intellect. So his character is only inspired by the experiences suffered by real people, and is _not_ meant to be taken as an accurate representation. By and large, mentally ill people are more likely to be a danger to themselves than anyone else. 
> 
> **And also,** _please, please_ tell me what you think of my characterizations and the building drama between these three big antagonists! I'm not a criminal mastermind, and I've been getting really stuck trying to figure out what these bad boys are up to. I have some things outlined for how I want their plans to impact my protagonist (Harry), but I'm not so sure about what other fallout may occur in the process.


	13. Fucking With Henry Peter Gyrich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Go To Bed, Harry,**  
>  Characters: Harry and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Norman and Peter Parker. Also, a stuffed animal named Benji.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for mention of Harry being turned on by thoughts involving his father.  
>   
>  **Fucking With Henry Peter Gyrich,**  
>  Characters: Norman Osborn, The Green Goblin (Auditory Hallucination), Henry Peter Gyrich. Additionally, mentions of Peter Parker.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for a mentally ill character with (poorly written) schizophrenic symptoms, sex, The Goblin encourages Norman to sexually assault and physically abuse Peter Parker, Master/slave Kink and the absence of any barrier during a rim job. 
> 
> **Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This,**  
>  Characters: Harry and Mystery Man who refers to himself as Daddy.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for sexual assault of a seventeen year old boy and Daddy Kink.
> 
>  **Who am I to Disagree,**  
>  Characters: Norman Osborn, Green Goblin (Auditory Hallucination), and a sleeping Henry Peter Gyrich. Additionally, mentions of Tombstone.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** talk of destroying a center for young, disenfranchised members of the community.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing porn is really difficult for me. So seriously, guys, let me know if you all enjoy it or not! The more encouragement I receive, the more likely I am to attempt including more scenes like this (well, _not exactly like this,_ hopefully less Henry and a lot more Peter and Harry in the future). I may or may not go back and finish the scene between Henry and Norman in this chapter, because _eh_ I was starting to lose interest, I guess? Impatient to move on with the plot, because _porn is time consuming and tricky to get right, dammit._ So let me know if you want to see more graphic smut!

#### Go To Bed, Harry,

“Hey, wake up, sleepyhead.”

 _“Mmm?”_ Harry moaned his discontent, and tried to swat away the finger that was poking his shoulder.

Mary Jane Watson stared down at her naked friend with a look of exasperation. Her pokes turned into nudges and shaking to rouse her friend. “Get up, get dressed, brush your teeth and go to _your_ bed. Scoot, honey. _Harry,”_ and her tone was becoming more insistent. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. “I think it’s probably best if we don’t get caught snuggling up again, what with you still being naked, and your dad being,” she paused, unsure of a delicate way to say… “Um, _your dad.”_

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, “just so long as there’s no cameras. Dad doesn’t really care.” He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. “Oh, _and you,”_ he raised his head back up, yawning and blinking owlishly while he tried to remember the rest. _“Um,_ don’t get pregnant, okay? Cool, we’re good,” he mumbled and laid his head back down. “Lemme sleep.”

 _“Ugh,_ seriously?” MJ folded her arms over her chest and glared at the headboard, imagining Norman’s conceited scowl. That asshole really did think she was some kind of slut. _'Which, okay, technically at least a little bit accurate. You did just fuck around with Harry.’_ With a big sigh, she decided that didn’t matter. She still wanted the bed for herself and Harry would regret it tomorrow if he didn't brush his teeth.

“Buddy, move your lazy ass. I already cleaned up and put your kit away. But I am _so_ not going to let you wake me up in an hour complaining about how much I snore. Especially not when I run high risk of running into your judgmental sourpuss of a daddy in the morning. Nuh-uh. _Go to your room._ Snuggle up with your stuffed tiger, I need some undisturbed beauty sleep.” She had used her most no-nonsense, bossy, authoritative tone and it was working. He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and shifting around to get up.

 _“Fine,”_ he hissed as he dragged himself out of the bed. He frowned when he couldn’t spot any of his clothes on the floor.

“Already tossed ‘em in your hamper, playboy,” she was smiling, “You’ll just have to streak down the hall. Don’t worry, I haven’t heard Norman come back yet, you should be all clear, but you might want to hurry.” When he glanced back up at her, he noticed she was wearing a pair of his jammies. It took him several moments to process this information with his tired brain.

Suddenly, Harry’s face flushed bright red at the thought of being seen completely nude by his father. He pressed his thighs together and reached down to cover himself with his hands. _“Seriously?! Why_ couldn’t you have grabbed something for me to change into?” She paused to think about that for a moment before giving him a carefree little shrug of her shoulders and a mischievous smile.

 _“Ugh._ Fine, I’m going!" and he fled the room, quick like a bunny, and raced down the hall to his bedroom. As he shut the door, he was ashamed to say that he felt a little disappointed that Norman hadn’t caught him. His dick was springing back to life at just the thought of being naked in front of his father. _“Goddamn horny ass mutherfucker,”_ he bitched and moaned as he gathered his nightclothes. “You already had your fun tonight,” he told his penis, “so just settle down and let me get some sleep.”  

He pulled his pjs on and rushed through his evening hygienic routine, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot and resolutely not reaching down to adjust himself where his dick was still pulsing towards full attention. _“No, no, no,”_ he kept chiding it. _“_ I’m not in the mood for your angsty bullshit,” he told it. “I just want to sleep.”

He grabbed his big tiger stuffie, as Mary Jane suggested, and pulled it into bed with him. _Benji_ had been a birthday gift from Miss Watson. Cheeky gal pal that she is, _of course,_ she just couldn't resist giving him a bedmate that was the perfect size to spoon with. And she thought she was _so clever_ in giving him a tiger, knowing about his crush on Peter and her fond nickname for the little nerd who used to _love, love, love_ those big striped felines when he was little. But it had been Harry’s idea to call it Benji, short for Benjamin, Peter’s middle name.

 _“You’re so not subtle,”_ she'd told him.

 _“Doesn’t matter,_ Pete’s totally oblivious.”

Harry Osborn quickly dozed off, clutching Benji to his chest and whispering Petey’s name. He fell asleep imagining himself wrapped in Peter's deceptively strong arms, held tight against his favorite nerd's chest. Harold's lips curled into a smile as he nuzzled the top of Benji's head. _"Mmm, Peter._ Peter Benjamin Parker," he had sighed with delight, _"I luv you. Want to hold you. Want to kiss you. Mm, how I want you..."_ The quiet mumbles faded away as he drifted off with happy thoughts.   

 

**Warning: Sex is About to Happen.**

**Featuring:** Non-Romantic, Gay Sex, Consenting Adults, Norman Osborn/Henry Peter Gyrich, Master/slave kink, anal (rimming and penetration), oral.

For those that want to skip this part, I’ll post a summary of the plot relevant details in the Chapter Notes. For everyone else: _please enjoy responsibly!_ **Ages 18+ only!**

#### Norman Osborn Fucks With Henry Peter Gyrich,

When Norman arrived at the hotel room he'd arranged for, he found Henry there waiting for him. The man was completely naked and stretched out on the bed. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me,” Henry told him. He proceeded to give Norman a slow once over from head to toe and then couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to settle his gaze on Osborn's face or his groin.

“Have you been waiting very long?” Norman asked as he stripped off his jacket and placed it over the back of a chair. The tie was discarded on the table next, and Gyrich decided that he _needed_ to see the dress shirt hit the floor. He idly stroked himself, thinking about all that lean muscle hidden beneath Osborn's clothes.

 _“All night,”_ Henry complained, “this is all I could think about. Norman, you tease.” The fool rambled on about how sexily Norman dressed, mingling with the other guests while _he could just tell_ that Norman was restraining this beast of a cock that was meant for _him._ He couldn't focus at all, he had to leave early, he had been so damn eager to prepare himself for a rough fucking. Norman pretended to pay rapt attention while he slowly undid each button of his shirt. _'Just tear the damn thing off and toss it aside,'_ Gyrich wanted to wail, he was practically edging already at just the thought of having a naked Norman join him on the bed.

 _It just wasn't fair_ that a man that's already so brilliant, so fascinating and _domineering_ could also be _so damn hot._ No, _it wasn't fair,_ how was poor Henry supposed to resist temptation _like this?_ Norman could be the devil in disguise and Henry would still fall on his knees to suck Satan's cock.

 _'Shameful,'_ Henry chastised himself. _'Naughty, naughty boys deserve to be spanked and fucked in their dirty assholes,'_ he had to bite his lip and will his hands away from his arousal. He clutched at the bedsheets briefly before he decided this wasn't good enough. _'Allow me to kneel and pray for atonement, Father,'_ he almost said it aloud, but he thought he'd already embarrassed himself enough for one night. _'Best not to scare the old man off by revealing the strength of my fervor,'_ he quietly bemoaned his lowly status when held in comparison to _Norman Osborn._

Norman spotted the bottle he’d left resting on the table with two glasses. Nearly a third of it was empty. This man had gotten quite the head start going while Osborn had been occupied with Tombstone. _'All the better,’_ he thought, it was much more convenient that he should be able to skip as much foreplay as possible.

At some point this drunken idiot had fallen off the bed. Norman paused on the last button of his shirt, briefly, watching as Henry scrambled onto his hands and knees so he could crawl towards Norman’s feet. _'Not a bad view,’_ Norman had to admit. To see the ambitious politico reduced to this whimpering and desperate slut was a welcome power trip.

“You’ll make it up to me, won't you?” There was a note of pleading in the man’s voice. _“Norman,”_ his breathing became short and fast, panting, he wet his lips and begged, “I’ve been a very bad boy. _Please,_ I deserve to be punished and _ravished._ ” He was pawing Osborn’s thighs, just above his knees and pressing his fingers higher and inward. When a thumb and forefinger traced over Norman’s clothed half-hard cock he pushed his face against the fabric. _“Fuck me,”_ he mouthed on the man’s pant leg. He attempted to work the hidden appendage into a state of full arousal, alternating between closing his lips around the bulge and rubbing his face on it.

{ _"He’s so pathetically desperate for your cock. Normie,"_ } the Goblin cackled, sounding _oh so very_ amused and not the least bit surprised.  {"Whatever shall we do _with this sorry excuse for a man?_ "}

In response to the Goblin’s jeers, Norman was tempted to either laugh or snarl at this man's expense. But he kept his face impassive, closed off from those probing, pleading eyes that kept glancing up at him. Feeling generous, Norman finished undoing the last button and allowed his shirt to fall onto the floor behind him. Then he reached down to pet the man’s hair and encourage him to back off so he could free his dick from the ever tightening restrictions.

 _‘I’ll fuck him. Hard and fast,’_ he assured his other half, _'the sooner we finish here, the more time we’ll have left to address our other concerns this evening.’_

And his nights did so often sprawl into a never ending to-do list of crimes and subterfuge, it was lucky that his stamina was so _enhanced_ or else he might never be able to keep it up. What’s a few more sleepless nights, anyway?

{ _" **Better be careful, Normie.** You know what they say, go too long without rest and **you might start hallucinating**._ "} Laughter echoed in his mind, drowning out the sound of the pathetic creature at his feet pawing and drooling over his dick.

 _'Enough distractions, Goblin, go away and let me focus.’_ Norman furrowed his brows in concentration while he tried to shoo the delusion. He scarcely remembered unfastening his pants but now he felt Gyrich tugging them down to his ankles. Henry was quick to reach for the waistband of Norman’s underwear, licking at his navel and eager to capture his erection in his mouth, but Norman stopped him by twisting a hand in his hair and pulling his head back.

“I've had enough foreplay for one night. Henry, get your drunk ass on the bed, face down, and prepare yourself. When I return, you best be ready to demonstrate what a needy little cockslut you are.”

“Yessir,” Henry acquiesced to the demand without complaint, much as it pained him to be left alone _again._ He knew if he threw any sort of fit, Norman would not hesitate to walk out altogether. Osborn's self-control was the stuff of legend, Norman could be balls deep, on the brink of orgasm, and _still_ have the strength of will to _completely stop,_ pull out and leave. And that was no exaggeration. It had actually happened once, when he’d gotten an important phone call mid-fuck. _“Urgent OsCorp business,”_ he’d said. Henry had been left in a state of complete and utter disbelief. Honestly, being reminded of that now somehow only made this busy man seem all the more appealing. Earning an evening in Osborn’s bed was something exceptionally rare and beyond thrilling.

After Norman disappeared into the bathroom, he finished removing his clothes and made a cursory effort to clean himself. He did not want to hear any complaints about the taste when he told the other man where he wanted his tongue. Although, he doubted Gyrich would notice or care about a little sweat and grime.

He glanced at the mirror for a long moment, narrowing his eyes in warning against the itching he could still feel in the back of his mind. The Goblin was growing stronger, more difficult to ignore, and the constant intrusions were wearing down on him. Especially since he had started donning the costume. Letting his hallucination out to play was beginning to feel like a very big mistake, and one that he could not afford to take back.

Now that his son’s life was on the line, it was more important than ever that he succeed in his grand plan to control the New York Criminal Underworld. It was no longer enough just to be rich, money could only go so far these days. Bought politicians and even the most high-end security systems could be beaten by _a lone man._ The sooner the government could be convinced to enforce a registration system on all of the _enhanced_ individuals out there, the better equipped he would be to monitor those potential threats. His enemies were everywhere, waiting, watching, and plotting his demise. To outmaneuver them, he had to be prepared. Norman _needed_ to be smarter, stronger, more ruthless and resourceful than everyone else. 

 _He needed to never feel powerless ever again,_ and yet his efforts thus far had _ironically_ made him more susceptible to the faults in his own mind. If he wasn't careful, there was a high risk that he could experience a psychotic break from reality, and lose sight of himself under the influence of his own delusions.

{ _"Relax, Normie, there’s nothing to fear. I only want to help you,_ "} the voice cooed.  { _"Forget your big plans, just for an hour or two. Take that simpering fool for a ride he won’t soon forget. I’ll wait, go ahead and enjoy yourself._ "}  Norman knew better than to trust _any_ sort of encouragement that his alter ego offered, but he often found himself succumbing to his suggestions regardless. _It did seem sensible,_ after all, he worked hard. He deserved to occasionally reward himself. And the Goblin was an extension of himself, their existence intertwined, it would not - could not dare lead him too far astray. Not when it so convincingly seemed to have its own sense of self preservation.

{ _"No,_ **I would _never_ hurt you**. I'm your friend, Normie. _We're a perfect team, inseparable, partners in crime, you and me, and me and you. Just as it's always been._ **It's everyone else that can't be trusted.** _Us against the world,_ all of it, _e_ _veryone. **No one else is on your side**._ "} The incessant prattling got old fast when he needed to expend valuable time and attention to keep pace with the Goblin's strange commentary. Eventually it would fade, the words would become unintelligible, and his companion would murmur simple reactive sounds of surprise, glee, anger and disappointment until he had something he really wanted to say. 

As Norman Osborn emerged, he was pleased to see that Henry had already worked his way up to inserting the dildo Norman had left for him. 7 inches long and 1.5 in diameter, it was big enough to loosen the boy up, but still small enough to keep him wanting for what _more_ Norman’s generous endowment had to offer.

Henry was moaning, trembling, and pushing his stupid face into the arm he had braced on the bed while his other hand finished jamming the toy in up to the flared base. When he felt the dip in the bed behind him, Henry flexed his ass cheeks and shivered around the intrusion. Far from embarrassed, Henry seemed to delight in making a spectacle of himself for Norman’s benefit.

"Enjoying yourself, Henry?" Norman asked with a devious, mocking smile. He reached down to pet the man’s backside, admiring the exaggerated arch in his posture, the curve of his buttocks and trailing down to toy with his ballsack.

 _"Fuck,"_  Henry Gyrich gasped, "don't say that. My mother calls me Henry." He winced as soon as he'd said that, mentioning parents during sex is generally bad form, unless you're specifically _into_ that sort of thing, and he thought Norman definitely wasn't. He'd made the drunken mistake of calling Osborn Daddy once, and he'd been slapped across the face and tossed out of bed as a result. Getting brutally fucked on the floor was all good fun, except he'd been terribly sore for a week and he'd had to pull strings just to convince Norman to speak to him again after that. It was definitely safest not to say or do anything that would remind the older man of his son. 

 _"Ah -_ you should use my middle name, Peter,” he said, after a brief pause to mentally curse himself for his previous comment. He'd been twisting to get the best angle as Norman fondled him. Oh, _what he would have done for a mirror at this moment..._ he so wished he had a better view of the sexy beast behind him. Henry closed his eyes, imagining how they must look right now from an outside perspective. He was completely blind to the way Osborn's lips curled with distaste.

 _‘Of course, just what I needed,'_ Norman grimaced, _'to be reminded of the little traitor in this context.'_ Annoyed with this request, Norman kicked Henry’s legs open a little wider. He groped at the swinging cock and balls, giving them both a quick squeeze before drawing his hand back to bring it down with a loud slap on Henry's upturned rear. The Goblin’s squeal of delight was almost as loud as Henry’s moaning.

{ _"All the better to imagine **fucking** that **little wanker**_ _in the same way,_ "}the green creature's voice was guttural and cruel. The accompanying vision of _Peter Parker_ shoved down on his hands and knees, naked and scared, sent a shock of anger through his chest and warmed his blood with barely restrained rage. Norman didn’t want to entertain the Goblin with a direct response, just tried to push that abhorrent suggestion aside.

 _'Peter Parker is a_ child,’ he wanted to hiss at the evil gremlin, but he grit his teeth and tried to keep his focus on the grown man beneath him. In his anger he couldn't help grabbing Henry by the hips hard enough to bruise. He dragged his nails into the pale flesh as his grip tightened. Gyrich bucked against the hold and let out a startled cry. Luckily enough, he was too horny and drunk to be hurt by the gesture, as the pain quickly transformed into pleasure.

{ _" **Yes,** make Petey squeal!_ "}The Goblin's unbridled enthusiasm tempted Norman to inflict all his frustrations out upon the canvas of human flesh so generously laid out before him. Gobby spoke quickly, alternating between high-pitched giggles and a cruel rasp, { _" **Paint Peter Parker**  _ _ **red, black and blue** to match his hero. _ And then cover him in your own web fluid, _Normie, make him bleed for his betrayal._ **Make him hurt.** _Make him beg for mercy,_ "} the voice persisted to annoy and intrigue Osborn in spite of himself. As much as the thought disgusted him, it also _aroused him_ to envision taking advantage of the poor boy that he'd grown so fond of. The betrayal of learning that Peter had turned to his rival was still a fresh, open wound. Thoughts of revenge were very tempting, much as he didn't want to _actually_ hurt Peter, he still wanted Parker _to suffer._  

Norman relented his grip and reminded himself that  _'this is not Peter Parker.'_ He became so terribly occupied trying to keep the identity of the man beneath him separate and distinct from any thoughts of the teenager, he forgot to keep disabusing the Goblin of the notion that he would _never_ hurt the Parker boy, _not like this,_ anyway.  _'Henry Peter_   _Gyrich will only accept so much punishment before he wises up enough to leave. He's still too valuable a resource to waste on one of your violent temper tantrums. Restrain yourself. Be gentle with the little cocksucker.'_

 _“Ha-ah,_ ya know, on the Hill they call me _Bad News Pete,"_ Gyrich laughed, oblivious to the war in Norman's thoughts. As the grip on his hips relented, Henry had begun to rock forward and back until he bumped against Osborn's thighs. 

“Bad News Pete,” Norman tested the name on his tongue. The name itself didn't seem all that amusing to him, but he supposed to the inebriated anything could seem quite humorous. If it helped the man relax, Norman could play along with this game for a little while. "Tell me, are you merely the messenger in most cases or the _cause_ of everyone’s ire?” the question rolled off his silver tongue with just a hint of bite behind the teasing intent.

“Bit of both, I’m afraid,” Gyrich readily admitted. The laughter died, replaced with mock-seriousness. “I’ve been a _very_ bad boy," he said with a smile. Norman almost thought he'd snorted aloud before he realized he'd only  _heard_ the sound and it had  _seemed_ as though the source was one of the darkest corners in the room. He quickly busied his hands with roaming, trying not to let on to how divided his attention was in anticipation of the  _very inconvenient_ commentary he was expecting to receive momentarily. Not to be disappointed, laughter bubbled out of nowhere. 

{ _"Haha, 'I've been very bad,'_ says the man with all the _bad boy_ credentials of an honor roll high school student that swiped a snack from the cookie jar and spoiled his dinner. _Oh!_ **Come on,** _Normie! You can't tell me he doesn't remind you at all of o~ oh,_ some other Peter."}

 _“Ah,_ yes, _yes,_ _”_ Norman pretended that he was answering Gyrich's question and _definitely not_ responding to the gremlin's unwelcome contribution. But his metaphorical rough edges abruptly began to soften as the cruel voice in his head faded into contented humming. The Goblin's reminder of Peter's unrelenting _goodness_ was all the reassurance he needed to decide the _proper_ way to handle his grievance against Mr. Parker. _'Peter has been led astray, but I'll see to it that he is guided back where he belongs.'_  

Where his hands had left marks on Gyrich's hips, they now gently caressed. “You have. You’ve been so _very, very bad, Peter,”_ his deep, dark voice was smooth as silk to the ears of his submissive fucktoy. For just a moment, Norman let himself imagine that  _Peter Parker_ would be just as soft and malleable in his talented hands. The boy would  _come crawling and begging_ to be welcomed back into his good graces, and Big Daddy Norman  _might_ just be willing to allow it if the boy would behave as subservient as this simpering fool. 

Henry closed his eyes and focused on the sound, let Osborn’s voice blanket his mind in a thick fog of lust. He was entranced by the unexpected _intensity_ behind Norman's words. The dildo shoved in his asshole began moving, with Norman's hand directing it. Henry decided to let all reason be ignored, save for what mental capacity was still needed to understand and carry out Norman’s demands. He compared himself to a happy slave serving a benevolent Master. 

 _'It would take years to train a boy like Peter, a quick study for many things, but a social savant he is not.'_ Norman idly contemplated the long game of seducing Peter Parker, in stealing him away from Tony Stark, and seeing his brilliant mind flourish - the vast potential that could only be tapped by a man of Norman's immense genius and cunning. Otherwise Peter would be destined to flounder under Stark's grossly inappropriate  _'expertise.'_

With the Goblin feeling temporarily sated by the manner in which Osborn was slowly yielding to his desires with regard to Peter Parker, it was much easier now for Norman to finally give his full focus over to the task at hand: _fucking with Henry Peter Gyrich._

“You’ve been harboring such _disgusting_ fantasies, Peter. Cloying for your Master’s attention, to the great _embarrassment_ of any colleagues attentive enough to notice. And ducking out of your responsibilities to come here and _fuck yourself_ for my amusement. Am I forgetting anything?” He emphasized each accusation by withdrawing the toy stuffed in Henry’s hole halfway free and then roughly pushing it back inside.

 _“Mmm,"_  Henry agreed without thinking, he was so absorbed in _feeling_ just then that he hadn't bothered to fully process the question. That is, until the toy was completely removed and left him _feeling empty._ _"Ah, ah,"_ he whined like a petulant child. _"Shit. Fuck. Please, Master. May I_ \- uhh, plead the fifth?” Henry playfully, impulsively decided to test Norman’s tolerance for disobedience tonight. That drink had really gone to his head. He was feeling silly.

The comment earned him a hard slap on the ass. _“Fuck, ah!_ Surely that about sums it up, Sir. Honest,” he pleaded, “I’ve just been a wanton little slut. _God help me,_ my greatest sin is how badly I want for you to fuck me. _Norman, please.”_

 _“Petey,”_ Norman’s voice was soft like velvet and unexpectedly tender, _“My naughty little underling. How crass and foolish of you.”_ Osborn poured some slick onto his fingers from the convenient bottle of lube that Henry had left on the edge of the bed. “Do you really think you’re ready to take _all of me?”_ He pushed the dildo back in and worked two wet fingers in around it, stretching the opening that much wider. Henry's insides were moist, hot and soft to the touch.

As much fun as it would be to drive his cock into Henry, to pound him hard and unforgiving, at the same time it also seemed like _such a burden_. A chore, really, because Norman honestly would've rather laid down for a little handsy, an efficient blow job and a long nap. If only Henry were the sort of man that Norman felt safe enough to _actually sleep_ with.

 _Oh_ _,_ his body was certainly up to the task of a drawnout fucking, but his mind just wasn't all that interested tonight, there were too many heavy concerns weighing him down. Having to tolerate the Goblin's unwelcome commentary was bad enough, but battling the intrusive suggestions left him feeling terribly drained on top of the lingering memory of Tombstone's threats.  _Alas,_ there was no way that the Goblin would allow him any rest if he didn't keep up with this performance.

 _“Fuck, I don’t even care,”_ Henry groaned. _“Or if you won’t put it in my ass, at least let me suck you off."_  His voice was full of desperation, _"I want it, need it, so bad."_ Henry turned his head to look up and back at Mr. Osborn, to try to catch the man’s eye, but Norman’s attention was fixated on fingering his asshole. Henry’s face flushed, it was nowhere near the most humiliating thing he’d ever done for Norman, but he still couldn’t help that flash of embarrassment at _how much the attention excited him._ Plus, seeing the dominant man’s devastatingly gorgeous smirk made him feel so pleasantly warm and tingly all over.

“Of course you do,” Norman teased him by almost sounding _bored._ Henry tensed with the effort to hold his position, biting his knuckles to keep from begging, _‘please, just fuck me, I’m ready, take me.’_ If he begged too much, then the older man would ridicule him for his impatience and probably take longer just to amuse himself with Henry’s building frustration. “Such a greedy, _needy,_ little cockslut, Peter. You’re nothing more than a slave to your desires.”

Norman’s long fingers were searching, scissoring and hooking inside of him. Henry knew it wouldn’t be long before they found their target. _‘There.’_ The pad of Norman’s long middle finger caressed Henry’s prostate. Henry jerked as the pleasurable sensation hit him, gasping with pleasure and no longer able to resist bucking his hips in an effort to encourage more. Norman’s other hand gripped the length of Henry’s cock, just holding it, using only the barest amount of pressure to rub it with his thumb.

It took several seconds for Henry to remember the conversation, and another several more to control his breathing enough to speak. “But I am _your slave._ My only desire is to _please you.”_ Henry’s voice was approaching a desperate whine, “Master, please _use me._ However you want, _I am at your mercy."_

“You would willingly do whatever I command?” Norman asked, tightening his hold on Henry’s dick while slowly sliding up and down from base to tip.

 _“Anything,"_  Henry moaned. "Just tell me what you want. I’ll do it without question or - _ah,”_ Henry bit his lip, _god,_ the way Norman was touching him, a finger sliding up to spread the precum leaking from his slit was sweet torture combined with the stimulation to his prostate. When Henry resumed speaking, it was with a short laugh as he remembered where he’d left of. _“Or heh, ha - hesitation,”_ he smiled when he heard Norman’s small hum of amusement. Henry promised, “I will _gladly_ submit to your every sexy whim.”

 _'Truly a shame that loyalty doesn’t extend beyond closed doors,’_ Norman thought. _‘I will just have to make do with accepting sexual favors. For now.’_ His fingers probed deeper, stretched wider and then retreated completely. He left the dildo in place, if only because its presence helped to keep Henry in the proper state of mind. It meant Norman would have to try even less hard to stay in character for Henry's ridiculous kink.

Which was not to say that Norman didn't _enjoy_ exploiting the twisted power dynamics implied by this little Master/slave roleplay, but it did nothing to satisfy the deeper sense of longing that some of his previous, _more tender lovers_ had attended to. But this wasn't a good time to reminisce about his former teacher. There was never a good time for that. Even just the barest hint of a reminder of what had happened to Stromm spurned a hatred in him that provoked violent desires, prompting the Goblin to crawl back out from his creepy cavern.

“Then I think you should have to earn the pleasure of my cock,” Norman told him. He had a wicked smile on his face as the Goblin returned to whisper some dirty suggestions in his ear. 

“What would you have me do, Master?”

 _“Mmm,_ I think I should have you lay on your back while I sit on your face." It was actually _the most sanitary_ of Gobby's ideas, and who doesn't enjoy a rim job? _"You can show me what talents you’ve developed in Washington."_ He allowed himself a short laugh and a tight smile."Peter the Professional Kiss Ass,” he taunted. Gyrich puckered his lips in response and then rolled onto his back, happy to oblige.

Norman moved to kneel over Gyrich’s face, his balls hanging down in front of Henry’s chin. He took the bottle of lube with him and used it to wet the man's chest as he playfully began to tease Gyrich’s nipples. Henry groaned against the cleft of Norman's asscheeks. From his slavish position, Henry attempted to generate as much saliva as he could and leverage to wiggle his tongue inside the rim of Osborn’s asshole. Henry ate butt like a starving man, he was so ravenous in his pursuit to satisfy his Master.

"You almost seem to enjoy this too much, Peter. Is it the taste of ass or the flavor of humiliation that does it for you?" Henry's mumbled response was completely unintelligible. "If you're able to stretch me well enough, I may even consider letting you fuck my hole. Would you like that? Do you think you could even keep it up long enough to satisfy me?"

 _"Oh fuck,_  for you, Master? I would most certainly be willing to try." Henry proceeded to thoroughly wet his fingers and clumsily force them inside. Somewhere between his drunken fervor and excitement, his coordination suffered. Norman was more amused than annoyed by this, there was only so much talent you could expect from a stupid underling. He clenched around the intrusion and laughed when he heard Henry's audible, wordless whine.  _"Ahh, o-oh. Mmf."_

 _'God, Norman, so tight,’_ Henry admired the strength of Osborn's glutes. The mere thought of ever possibly having the chance to stick his dick in this dominant man was overpowering Henry’s self control. His hips bucked against air, cock twitching and leaking precum, his nipples hard and tingling under the ministrations of Norman’s slick fingers.

"Such an eager little whore, Peter." Norman leaned forward, balancing on one hand while the other slid down the center of Henry's rib cage, over his belly, and didn't stop until it wrapped around the shaft of Henry's dick. Norman was licking his lips, half considering whether or not to be generous enough as to suck Petey off.  _'No,_ but _I can still tease him by blowing on it.'_

 _"Fuck! Norman,_ Master,  _please,"_ Henry groaned, his nose still tucked in Norman's crack while he was panting in an attempt to catch his breath enough that he could beg for tongue and throat to envelop him. Norman was alternating between sucking hard on the inside of Gyrich's thigh and breathing heavily on the heated flesh of his genitalia. Lazily, one of Norman's large hands was squeezing and caressing the length of Henry's pulsing dick. 

 _"Oh. Suck me. Fuck me. God, Norman,"_ he gasped before he remembered the task he'd been given and was so easily distracted from. In apology, Henry flattened his tongue along Norman's perineum and dragged it back between his cheeks, sliding a couple extra fingers through the trail of saliva and wiggling them inside Norman's asshole. When the other man drove himself back upon the intruding digits, Gyrich used his tongue and lips to direct Norman's balls into his waiting mouth.

"Are you going to cum on the first full thrust if I put your dick inside of me?" Norman squeezed the penis in his hand for emphasis and Henry already felt his muscles tense in anticipation of shooting his load.

 _"I -_ I'm too close," Henry lamented. Although, to avoid disappointing his Master and to hopefully save his chances of being given an opportunity to 'top,' Henry suggested, "Finish me now and I promise to last longer if you'll give me a chance at a second round." 

"And what would I do in the meantime, while I wait for you to get it back up?"

"Allow me to worship at your feet and suckle your cock.  _As I was born to serve."_

Norman made quick work of jerking Henry's dick off and then wasted no time in shoving the spent man onto the floor. "On your knees, as promised, Peter." The instructions were accompanied by the crinkling sounds of a condom wrapper being torn open. Judging by the color and the vague recollection of what he'd seen in the drawer when he first arrived, it was probably grape flavored. Henry honestly would've preferred Norman's natural flavor, to drink his ejaculate, but he supposed that he probably seemed too much of a stupid slut from Osborn's perspective to ever be trusted enough for fluid bonding. 

Without complaint, Henry assumed the position and opened his throat to accommodate as much of Norman's considerable girth as he could manage without choking. 8 inches in length and just over 2 in diameter. It was definitely a mouthful. He barely managed to fit half of it inside before Norman grew impatient. 

"If it becomes too much, slap my thigh," Osborn's words could barely be described as a warning, he didn't even wait for confirmation that Gyrich had understood them before he grabbed him by the back of the head and forced his head down until Henry's nose was tickled by short, well-kept auburn pubic hair. 

Henry's jaw and knees ached by the time Norman was through with fucking his throat. He had only needed to signal Norman twice to give him air, and it seemed to burn his lungs each time he was released. He'd gobbled at his balls, flattened his tongue to run along the underside or suckled at the tip as he prepared himself for each bout of being roughly face fucked. He felt so used, defiled, and  _it was glorious._ By the time that Norman had cum, Henry was again fully erect and ready for round 2.

#### Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This,

Harold lay in bed sleeping soundly. Shadows danced across the floor. He heard a loud creak - the type that belonged in a horror film and not a penthouse, for fuck’s sake, for what Father paid for this place there shouldn't be any loose fucking floorboards and all the hinges should be well-oiled.

There was scuffing sounds and curses from the other room. Reluctantly, Harry threw the covers off and pulled himself out of bed. Unseeing and unfeeling, he somehow managed to find his way out into the hall and followed the noises.

“Dad?” He called out, “Is that you?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but it did nothing to help him see through the darkness. He felt along the wall, searching for the light switch, but he struggled to find it. “What the hell?” He complained.

“Harold, son, were you looking for me?” Someone asked from behind him. A hot, heavy puff of air touched his shoulder, goosebumps raised on Harry’s arms. The voice did not belong to Norman Osborn. He didn’t know who this man was.  _Or rather,_ he had his suspicions, but did not want to believe it.  _'No, no, no, why would he be here? Why now? How did he find me?'_

When Harry tried to turn around, he was stopped by arms moving forward along either side of his body. Suddenly, he found himself caged against the wall, with this strange man pressing up behind him.

Harold was gasping for breath. _“Who are you? What do you want? How did you get in here?”_ he tried to ask, but he only managed to whimper and cry out when the man’s hips bucked against his backside. _“Stop! Please, let me go,”_ his tongue tripped to form the words, they were barely coherent, more akin to frantic mumbles. All that earned him was laugher.

The intruder's voice played at being soothing and cheerful as he began singing, _“Hush now, baby, don’t say a word. Daddy’s going to buy you a -_ ah, _hah, hah, ha,”_ the sharp laughter came in quick bursts, cruel lips pressed to Harold’s exposed throat. He was forced to tilt his head, the man's teeth pressing threateningly against his flesh until he moved to present more access for the villain to thoroughly suck, bite and bruise his neck.

When he was satisfied with the marks he'd made, he kissed under Harry's jaw. A tongue flicked out and he felt it drag upwards along his cheek and back towards his hairline. The stranger was contentedly humming that awful tune between giggles.

When his mouth found it’s way to the shell of Harold's ear he whispered, _“Daddy’s going to buy you the world._ Harold, _my precious baby,_ you’re worth it, aren’t you?  _Every pretty penny,”_ the praise turned into a purr while the boy trembled. _“Your Daddy loves you,”_ he said, _“More than anything.”_

“You’re not my dad!” Harry gasped as the man pushed him harder against the wall and he felt the heat and pressure of growing arousal grinding against his ass.

 _“Oh,_ aren’t I?” large hands slid down the front of Harry’s body, and didn't stop until they were pulling his pants down. “Well, _I’ll fix that.”_ Harry tried to flinch away as long fingers wrapped around his penis. They tightened their grip and he squealed with fright.

“Don’t hurt me!” He cried. “Let me go, _please, I -”_ he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. _“Please, Daddy,_ I want my Daddy, please.” He begged for the safety of his father’s presence. Norman could scare away any monster, he was sure of it. If he begged loud enough, Norman would come save him, he hoped, he prayed, it was worth a try. 

 _“Daddy,_ help me! _Please, Dad,”_ he was embarrassed by his whimpers. Harry wanted to scream louder, but the sound kept getting stuck in his throat. He couldn’t seem to catch enough breath to raise his voice. So the whole time, he panted and cursed and cried for his Daddy while this strange man played this horrible fucking game with him.

The intruder started with a flurry of kisses at the nape of his neck, shoulders, throat, the side of his face and on the top of his head. Large, warm hands snuck around to jerk at his cute uncut dick, teasingly trailing over his abdomen and playing with his pert little nipples with one hand while the other toyed with Harold's foreskin. Harry had to brace himself against the wall, wishing that he could just fall into the darkness, but there was no escape. He just wasn't strong enough to fight back. The worst of it was when Harry felt a big, hard cock thrust between his ass cheeks. Not penetrating, thankfully, but the boy still felt disgusted. _Violated._

The subsequent rutting was slow and _hard._ Harry was nearly lifted off his feet, if it wasn't for the assailant's arms still wrapped around him, he wouldn't have had the balance or strength to keep standing. He just wanted to crumble onto the floor, curl up into a ball and cry until his real father found him there. So he continued to beg for his Daddy while he endured being reduced to a sad fucktoy for this despicable man. They were both becoming slick with sweat and precum was leaking from the throbbing dick pressed against Harry's ass. The hands on Harold's cock and chest dropped away for a moment before replacing themselves around the boy's hips and lower back, holding Harry steady so the man could quicken the pace without losing his place.  

 _“Who’s your Daddy now?”_ the villain taunted as he came. The boy's backside was thoroughly coated with cum, which this monster was using as lubricant to work long fingers into his asshole. Harry felt sticky, gross, and overheated. 

"I don't know who you are, but you're  _not_ Norman Osborn.  _You're not my Dad."_ Harold couldn't fight back physically, but he would sooner die than give this creep the satisfaction!  _Nevermind that his body had already been used to bring the villain to climax,_ because in spite of his orgasm he was not yet fully sated.  _Oh no,_ in fact, _this creep was just getting started._

Those strong arms forced Harry to turn around and he was shocked to see bright blue eyes staring at him through the holes in the Green Goblin's mask. 

Harry jerked awake and nearly fell off his bed with his limbs tangled in the blankets. He was twitching, gasping, and horrified to find that one of his hands had wandered into his pajama bottoms. He was both rock hard and sick to his stomach.  _Finishing_ with thoughts of a psychotic, evil fuckhead still fresh on his mind was  _definitely not_ an option. So he laid in bed, shivering and contemplating the pro-cons of a cold shower. 

#### Who am I to Disagree?

Finally, after several more orgasms between them both, Henry had fallen asleep. Norman washed his hands, redressed and took a seat at the table while he perused the unconscious man’s phone. Breaking through his passcodes was child’s play. Tapping into his ‘secure’ emails was even easier. The only tricky part was to quickly assess what was of value to him.

Once this was finished, he had half a mind to bomb all the warehouses and safe houses that he suspected still belonged to Tombstone. But Mr. Lincoln hadn’t just threatened Osborn’s business; he’d implied a willingness to attack _his son._ This required a different kind of vengeance. Lincoln had no family that Osborn was aware of, but from what he’d gathered… the man had been raised on the streets. The man contributed to many charities over the years, mostly fronts, but Norman remembered noting that he had sensed a particularly strong connection to one philanthropic endeavor in particular.

 _'The_ _Lincoln Dynamic Youth Center.’_  

{ _" **Go change into the suit, Normie. Let's rain down hell upon it**._ "}

_'It's one of only a few places of refuge in the city, a safe space designed for children to protect them from all the violence in the streets. Given his current financial straits, there's no way they could afford to rebuild, they've already lost most of their backing after news broke linking Mr. Lincoln to his criminal empire.'_

{ _" **He’s threatened your baby. Normie, let me destroy his.**_ "}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the most important plot-related paragraphs:
>
>> He glanced at the mirror for a long moment, narrowing his eyes in warning against the itching he could still feel in the back of his mind. The Goblin was growing stronger, more difficult to ignore, and the constant intrusions were wearing down on him. Especially since he started donning the costume. Letting his hallucination out to play was beginning to feel like a very big mistake, and one that he could not afford to take back.
>> 
>> Now that his son’s life was on the line, it was more important than ever that he succeed in his grand plan to control the New York Criminal Underworld. It was no longer enough just to be rich, money could only go so far these days. Bought politicians and even the most high-end security systems could be beaten by a _lone man._ The sooner the government could be convinced to enforce a registration system on all of the _enhanced_ individuals out there, the better equipped he would be to monitor those potential threats. His enemies were everywhere, waiting, watching, and plotting his demise. To outmaneuver them, he had to be prepared. Norman _needed_ to be smarter, stronger, more ruthless and resourceful than everyone else. 
>> 
>> _He needed to never feel powerless ever again,_ and yet his efforts thus far had _ironically_ made him more susceptible to the faults in his own mind. If he wasn't careful, there was a high risk that he could experience a psychotic break from reality, and lose sight of himself under the influence of his own delusions. 
>> 
>> **‘Relax, Normie, there’s nothing to fear. I only want to help you,’** the voice cooed. **‘Forget your big plans, just for an hour or two. Take that simpering fool for a ride he won’t soon forget. I’ll wait, go ahead and enjoy yourself.’** Norman knew better than to trust any sort of encouragement that his alter ego offered, but he often found himself succumbing to his suggestions regardless. _It did seem sensible,_ after all, he worked hard. He deserved to occasionally reward himself. And The Goblin was an extension of himself, their existence intertwined, it would not - could not dare lead him too far astray. Not when it so convincingly seemed to have its own sense of self preservation.  
>     
>  **'No, I would never hurt you. I'm your friend, Normie. We're a perfect team, inseparable, partners in crime, you and me, and me and you. Just as it's always been. It's everyone else that can't be trusted. Us against the world, all of it, everyone. No one else is on your side.'** The incessant prattling got old fast when he needed to expend valuable time and attention to keep pace with The Goblin's strange commentary. Eventually it would fade, the words would become unintelligible, and his companion would murmur simple reactive sounds of surprise, glee, anger and disappointment until he had something he really wanted to say.  
> 
> 
>    
> The rest of Norman/Henry is mostly just gratuitous smut and getting you acquainted with Norman's relationship with the Green Goblin while I establish how Norman Osborn is definitely down to fuck dudes. There's some quick, minor reference to Norman's past relationship with Professor Stromm.
> 
> Also, introducing the idea that he may even be attracted to Peter Parker and he wants to see him suffer for the betrayal discussed in the last chapter. The Goblin is very vocal in his encouragement. 
> 
> As for **Sweet Dreams** , Harry has a nightmare that features him "waking up," wandering down a dark hall and being sexually assaulted by a stranger that is revealed to be the Green Goblin. Then he wakes up for real. Gratuitous smut.


	14. It's All Spider-Man's Fault!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Harry is Horny, Hurt and Humiliated.**  
>  Characters: Harry. Additionally, mentions of the Green Goblin, Spider-Man, Peter, Gwen, MJ, Aunt May and Norman.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for memories of violence, underage rape, death threats, drug use, bondage, daddy kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have expanded my "first chapter" to include some "Character Notes" near the top (warning: it spoils details of Norman's backstory that have only vaguely been alluded to or otherwise haven't even been mentioned yet).
> 
> Also, I fully intend to eventually show you exactly what happened between Harry and the Green Goblin to prompt that nightmare (from both Harry and Norman's perspective). But first I want to tease you just a little bit longer while I find a better place to transition into that whole clusterfuck and what led up to it. In fact, depending upon how long that little story winds up being, I might just post it separately as a little prequel. (UPDATE: the prequel that explains how Gobby/Harry happened is entitled "Norman Didn't Plan For This.") I'm already slowly working on a prequel entitled _"Osborn With a Curse"_ to give glimpses into Norman's full backstory and Harry's childhood. Seriously, there's so much I want to write about these characters and how things got to be so screwed up.

#### Harry is Horny, Hurt and Humiliated,

After waking with a frightful start, Harry curled into the fetal position and stayed that way for at least twenty minutes while he focused on calming his frantic heartbeat and labored breathing. He tried to ignore the way all the shadows seemed to twist into spider webs, ghouls and goblins. In all that time, Harry's erection had stubbornly refused to flag, he kept remembering the feeling of the notorious green supervillain's hands on him. He'd only met him in the flesh once, and that was more than enough to leave a lasting impression.

 _'In the flesh'_ was the operative phrase there. Harry rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, trying hard to ignore the way his skin felt superheated from merely the faintest memory of the Goblin's touch. With a grimace, Harry pulled the blankets over his head, the heat was stifling but he needed to cover himself, his shame, _so terribly_ just then.

Even alone in the dark, he still felt haunted, as if someone were watching him. He couldn't bear to feel like his humiliation was being put on dispay. Much as he normally enjoyed being the center of attention, _this_ was too embarrassing. Here he was, all hot and bothered, sweating, nearly panting because his brain had conjured images of being fucked by an infamous crime king while he slept.

Harry quietly cursed himself, thinking he should've realized immediately that the assult on his body had only been a dream. As soon as he'd recognized the voice, as soon as that creep had said his name, he should've known that it wasn't real. _'He doesn't know who I am,'_ Harry thought.

He'd been carrying a fake ID when he crossed paths with the Green Goblin. A very convincing fake, if you ignored how ridiculous it was that he had tried to pass himself off as 23, when he barely looked seventeen.  _'But the villain seemed to buy it, anyway, or he just chose not to question it.' Either way,_ Harry couldn't remember saying or doing anything that would have given away his true identity, so unless the Goblin had recognized him and _intentionally_ played stupid -  _which Harry sincerely doubted was the case -_ then Harry should've remained safely anonymous. 

Harry was able to breath a little easier, thinking that he was safe now, but anxiety was still wreaking havoc on his insides. The reassurances felt empty. Much as he wanted to believe that the nightmare was over, he couldn't forever ignore that the horror of it all was still hanging over his head. Harold shivered and groaned into his pillow. His hips bucked and he tried to bury himself deeper beneath the blankets, attempting to disappear into his bed.

 _'Let the darkness take me,'_ Harry thought he'd rather die than ever feel so _exposed_ ever again. _Used, degraded_ and then _put on display._ He knew, _he just knew,_ although he never saw a camera, _he was certain_ that the Goblin had documented their long weekend together. Because that's what sick, evil perverts do. They keep evidence, trophies, and if the Goblin ever did learn Harry's last name - his connection to the obscenely rich CEO of OsCorp, then it was only a matter of time before those pictures would surface - most likely to be used as blackmail.

But Harry had taken precautions against being discovered, just in case. He made frequent and radical wardrobe changes ever since that incident. He changed his hair color, altered the style, taken to wearing sunglasses and hats. Occasionally he even wore his prescription glasses, though his vision was good enough that he didn't really need them unless he was sitting in the very back of the classroom and he didn't want to strain his eyes to see McKinney's tiny, scratchy penmanship on the board.

While abducted, he'd spent most of his time blindfolded and, as far as he could tell, the evil pervert had been preoccupied examining the parts of Harry's anatomy that were rarely if ever in public view. _It was highly unlikely_ that the villain would be able to draw any connection between "Robin Goodfellow" and Harold Osborn unless the creep somehow knew to be looking for one. Surely if the Green Goblin had somehow realized Harry's true identity, then _'he would have made a move by now if he ever planned to. Right?'_

 _Besides,_ _over six_   _months_ had passed since the abduction. _'He's probably forgotten all about me by now or moved on.'_   Sex with a super-criminal may have been quite memorable for the unassuming hostage, but it couldn't have been anywhere near as momentous for the crazed villain. Certainly someone as powerful and fickle as _The Green Goblin_ wouldn't waste any extra energy fixating on a random teenager when he has so many other more easily available options to choose from. 

_'If that creep is truly intent on taking over all major organized crime in New York, then he would probably have more than just a hand in the sex trade, human trafficking and prostitution. Not to mention all the freaks working for him, surely some of them would be eager to fuck the boss.'_

Those thoughts sickened Harry.  _'I'm not jealous or envious of them. It's just that -'_ It cheapened the affair, to think that it might have just been another Thursday-Friday-Saturday Night Through Sunday Morning Marathon Fuckfest and nothing special, barely even exciting for someone that _literally_ torments an entire city  _for the hell of it._

Their brief time together had been so _intense._ As much as he hated the villain for stealing his father’s tech, terrorizing the city, hurting him, threatening to do worse, _raping him - None of that_ was able to erase the irresistible temptation from the _seriously fucked up_ erotic fever dream come to life that had managed to span the length of that entirely too short three day weekend.

He'd been abducted, bound, blindfolded, drugged, humiliated, perversely coddled, coerced, and fucked. He had been _so desperate_ to survive the encounter, but even more desperate to _get off._

 _'It was the drugs,’_ he’d thought, _'it had to be the drugs. If I had been in my right mind, I would have never given myself over so completely - not to him. Never. No,_ not to anyone. _Not like_ that. _It was definitely the drugs.’_

He couldn't be blamed for the things he'd done. His life had been threatened. _There had literally been a gun to his head._ What else could he have done? Should he have begged and pleaded for mercy? The Green Goblin was not known for his leniency. 

Harry tried not to think about what must've happened to the poor woman that accidentally interrupted them. She'd been begging for her life in the other room, there was suddenly a loud crash, _and then nothing._ Was she dead? He didn't know. Harry's subsequent decision to seduce the creepy ass murderous mofo was more stupidly dangerous than the reasons that led him there to begin with,  _but it had worked._ Harry survived. He had lived to still not tell anyone the tale of this horrible misadventure. To say he was too embarrassed and humiliated by the experience didn't even begin to cover the torrent of mixed emotions. 

Harry was disgusted to admit that he'dactually _gotten off easy,_ even for all the trouble it had cost him, because the Goblin might've been just as inclined to torture or simply kill him outright if Harry hadn't managed to catch him in such a frisky mood. In fact, the rumors Harry had heard suggested that the new crime boss took perverse pleasure in tormenting his enemies before he murdered them. That is, when he wasn't swift in eliminating them, as he was in quite a bit of a hurry that night, and the Goblin had made a big splash on the front page with his fondness for knives and explosives. _'Actually, it was more of a batarang than a knife. Sharp. Pointy. Very stabby. Fancy throwing knives. Same difference.'_

Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position, back against his headboard, and pulled his pillow into his lap to hug it for comfort. Benji was lost somewhere in the tangle of his blankets and it was too dark in his room to waste time searching for him. Besides, he was too terribly distracted with the amusing thought that _The Green Goblin_ was probably a fan of _Batman._ Or more likely, the _Joker,_ or perhaps a combination of the two - as he did have a fondness for high tech gadgetry. The weapons and the costume were _obviously_ inspired by some sort of comic book influence. Maybe he was a kooky actor, a special effects or stunt man in another life.

Harold shook his head and dismissed that thought. He preferred not to speculate too much about the man behind the mask. He couldn't bear to start imagining every man that fit Gobby's approximate body shape as his former captor. His whole life would start feeling like that horrible nightmare of being without clothes in public - he'd start to suspect nearly everyone of knowing or being involved somehow. Even casual conversations would start to remind him of what he'd been through and innocent teasing would turn into poisoned barbs. _Most of all,_ he didn't want to acknowledge that his own father would fall under suspicion for simply having a similar height and build.

"Ha!"

 _'Norman Osborn,_ a widower, single father, brilliant scientist, ruthless businessman, CEO and founder of arguably one of the most influential companies on the planet. _Oh, also he manages to find enough spare time to throw on a Halloween costume, commit felonies ranging from grand larceny to murder to mass bombings all while fighting superheroes, terrorizing the city at large and trying to take over all organized crime in New fucking York.'_

It all sounded so absurd that it actually brought a smile to his face. _'Dad is a total badass, but I think I would've noticed if he was also batshit insane.'_ Harry muffled his giggles by shoving the pillow over his face. The hysterics abruptly ended with a couple gasping breaths when he stopped to consider how  _tender_ the Goblin had been when Harold had fainted from exhaustion. 

He frowned, _'Norman would never willingly touch me like that.'_  He tried not to feel disappointed, but it was a little beyond absurd that for a few insane seconds Harry had been so delirious that he actually believed the things he heard when the villain had whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Gobby probably thought Harold had lost consciousness at the time, or maybe it was more likely that the creep just really enjoyed a good mindfuck. What does it say about him that he thought a murderous lunatic had more capacity in his heart to love him than his own father?

By Saturday night, Harry had seriously started to wonder if the villain was growing weirdly fond of him. He'd begun to worry that he'd never escape, that he might forever be trapped playing the role of a captive lover, the kept man of an infamous crime king.  _And wasn't that the strangest combination of sexy and horrific._ It could make for one epically bizarre romantic comedy, that was for sure. Or superhero porn parody, if only he would've been rescued in the end rather than released.

 _Yes,_ Harry had _gotten lucky._  It was nothing short of amazing, spectacular, _fucking goddamn miraculous_ when he finally managed to convince the creep to let him go. From what he could gather from their brief dalliance, the Green Goblin was a man accustomed to taking whatever he wanted with little worry or regard for any sort of consequences. In exchange for sparing his life and allowing him to leave relatively unharmed, Harry had initially promised to spend an entire night _willingly_ catering to the Green Goblin's sexual appetite. But  _one night_ turned out to be woefully insufficient to sate the superhuman's  _enhanced libido._

 _'I never should have agreed to those terms, but I thought he was going to kill me or worse.’_ He remembered having been terrified that the madman would make good on his threats to _"bang"_ him, one way or another. _'Wasn't it completely absurd to think that the crazy new crime boss would take a break mid battle to abduct a mouthy teenager to rape later?'_ But that is _exactly_ what had happened. It was just his luck, too, that the stupid webslinging hero would practically drop the villain on his head and then _conveniently_ be rendered useless by a distraction in the exact moments that Harry needed the public menace to save him.

Momentarily, Harry allowed himself to get distracted by his hatred for the spider themed _'hero.'_ He was convinced that it was no _coincidence_ that had led him to that exact rooftop. That it had been no accident when Spidey all but flung the green and purple clad villain at Harry.  _'And now that I know Spider-Man is all cozy with Tony bloody Stark, it makes even more sense.'_ Harold thought the Avengers caused at least as many problems as they ever helped solve. _Supervillains_ weren't really _a thing_ until all these _'superheroes'_ started crawling out of the woodwork.

And it had been that reckless Spider-Man's fault that the Goblin had crashed onto the roof behind Harry. Maybe, as far as Harry knew, _‘maybe the vigilante had done it on purpose.’_ The theory was ridiculous, _absurd,_ but it couldn’t really just have been a _coincidence,_ could it? Harry had been there _looking for Peter._ He’d tracked Parker’s camera to that very roof, noticed his friend’s bag webbed to the wall. _What if Spidey had seen him there? What if Spidey had_ wanted _him there?_

Harry had started to suspect that something odd was going on with his best friend ever since Pete’s obsession started when the _Bugle_  offered prize money for photos of Spider-Man. Peter had been _so determined, so sure_ that he would be able to get those shots when no one else could. And he'd come through, not just once, but _repeatedly._ Pete had some flimsy excuse for always being in the right place at the right time to catch Spider-Man in action. He said that the masked menace was secretly a glory hound, that he sent Peter a heads-up when shit was about to go down.

 _‘But why Peter? Why a high school kid with a shitty camera?’_ Harry had wondered. _'Surely a glory hound would want to invite an experienced, professional photographer to catch all the best angles, and no self-proclaimed hero would intentionally invite a vulnerable teenager into that kind of danger.'_  

Then Harry remembered the strange interest that Eddie had taken in him when he was just a stupid kid, young and vulnerable. _‘Peter’s so sweet, clever, smart, but naïve. He's too damn trusting.’_ He had the sinking feeling that Spider-Man was taking advantage of his friend in a similar manner as Eddie did to him. He wasn’t sure how Peter had caught the hero’s attention, but he suspected that the resulting _relationship_ between the two was far from innocent.

Harry had not been blind to the strange bruises Parker tried to blame on his poor coordination or his struggles to get close to the action and find the perfect camera angles. Harry never got a close enough look to guess the true causes of Pete’s mysterious injuries, but he’d caught the boy limping and flinching often enough to _know_ that something wasn’t right about this.

 _'And the secrets he's been keeping.'_ Peter had always been such a terrible liar. _'Can't talk about work because of a Non-Disclosure Agreement, huh?'_ Harry had the sneaking suspicion that there was _a lot_ more than science happening in Stark Tower, and that Spidey was interested in experimenting with a very different kind of _chemistry_ with Harold's favorite nerd.

 _'Well, Pete’s job working with Spidey’s rich friend makes much more sense now, doesn’t it? He’s trying to woo Pete with big promises and fancy toys. He’s trying to keep him close, trying to take him away from me by driving a wedge between us. But it won’t work. I’m onto him.’_ Harry just hoped that Spidey hadn't gotten past the grooming stage with Parker. He hated to imagine how much damage that menace could cause to someone as fragile as _his Petey-pie._

Aside from that awful mess, _the awkward kisses and fondling,_ that Peter had endured with Liz last year, Harry was almost certain that Peter was still virginal.* His best friend definitely would've told him if anything else had happened, because Petey may be a science prodigy but he was clumsy and clueless in handling any new social situation. Even when they had their rough patches, Parker would still come to him for support and advice. 

Just thinking about  _Liz Allan_ and all of the romantic advice Peter had begged him for was making Harry's stomach turn worse than memories of swallowing Gobby's spit and cum. Explaining the different mechanisms and the proper finesse involved in unhooking a woman's bra to his shy nerd crush was high on the list of worst conversations ever. He'd stopped short of offering to give Peter some hands-on lessons in groping and kissing, but just barely. The thought had been so tempting. _Fuck,_ he'd fantasized more than once about using those sex-ed talks as an excuse to demonstrate what more Harry had to offer than just friendly advice in that regard. 

Of course, while Peter remained oblivious to the way Harry truly feels about him, it’s easily possible that Spider-Man could have somehow figured it out. If Spidey realized how Harry felt about his friend, then maybe the ‘hero’ had gotten jealous and tried to use the Goblin to destroy his competition.

 _‘Spidey lured me there and then practically dropped that homicidal psycho on my head._ _He was trying to kill me by proxy,’_ Harry was convinced of this theory. In Harry’s mind, no matter how convoluted the logic, the pieces fit together too well. It had to be true. _'_ _What other explanation could there be?’_

Grumpily, Harold glared at the ceiling. He raised his hands to cover a yawn and rememberedthe absurdity of how he had earlier been entertaining the _ridiculous notion_  that Norman Osborn could secretly be the Green Goblin. _'So I should at least provide equal consideration to the possibility that maybe Peter Benjamin Parker could be Spider-Man.'_

Unable to suppress another yawn, Harold blearily reached for his phone to check the time. "3AM," he announced when he saw it. "Of course, this is exactly the kind of stupid ass thinking that happens at three in the bloody morning," he groaned.

 _'No freaking way, nuh-uh, absolutely not. There's just no way_ my best friend _would be able to keep it a secret from me if he suddenly developed superpowers.'_ If he had, Harry would be miffed to say the least.

Besides, poor uncoordinated Pete had constantly embarrassed himself in gym class. Would his mysterious superpowers also have magically fixed his reflexes, in addition to making him ridiculously strong, durable and agile? What about how shy he'd always been?

Public speaking had always been a nightmare for Parker. He even got nervous talking to waitstaff and cashiers. Harry used to sit real close and discretely hold Pete's hand while he helped guide Peter through making casual small talk at the cafeteria table. Meanwhile, the webslinger was known for his quick quips. It had taken years for Peter to slowly warm up enough to embrace his wit around the squad. There's  _no way_ Peter could suddenly be that comfortable making conversation with strangers - criminals -  _supervillains!_

And what about all the inherent dangers in that line of work? It took a lot of encouragement from either Harry or MJ to ever convince Peter to take any risks that might get him in any sort of trouble with authority. _'_ _No way would Petey ever suit up as a vigilante, no matter how hard the boy crushes on heroes like Captain America and Iron Man.'_ That would require breaking too many laws, and Peter had always been very strict about following the rules.

 _'Good ole honest, awkward Pete,'_ Harold's tired, happy sigh marked a brief respite from the dark thoughts that had accompanied his nightmare. Harry wanted to gather his beautiful little nerd baby up in the blankets and tuck him into bed for a warm cuddle. This desire reminded him to search the covers to find his tiger stuffie. It took a frustrating amount of blind groping before he realized that Benji had fallen onto the floor during all the earlier tossing and turning he must've done while he slept. Eventually he collected his tiger and gave it an affectionate little pat on the head in apology. Then he pulled the stuffed animal tight against his chest while he resumed imagining his best friend's smiling face.  

But as Harry closed his eyes, intent on catching a few more winks of sleep, he was struck with terror as he couldn't help but remember the way Gobby's arms had searched for him in the dark. The way he'd been gently held by the villain and coaxed to sleep in a very disturbingly similar way as Harold had imagined cuddling with his teen crush. 

Even if Harry ever managed to forgive himself, he still had doubts that anyone else would ever understand why he had done those things. He couldn’t tell anyone what a depraved slut he’d been, how easily he had bent to the Goblin's will, how eagerly he had fallen to his knees and _begged for release._ Not for freedom.  _Release._ The only time he ever remembered saying,  _"No,"_ during his captivity was when he was so consumed by lust that he had started encouraging the creep.  _"No, no, don't stop. Please. Don't stop."_

That memory left him shuddering. He curled up into a ball, as small as he could, wrapped around his stuffie. His eyes prickled with unshed tears and his whole face burned with shame. He squeezed his thighs together as tight as he could and tried to will his private parts to go numb, but it was no use. His cock still managed to throb and twitch, slowly rising to attention after it had earlier  softened when he'd gotten distracted by thoughts of Spider-Man. His sphincter tightened and relaxed several times as well, not wanting for its involvement in the memories to be forgotten. 

Harry had only done what he thought was necessary at the time. He really hadn't meant to enjoy it. _'I didn't have a choice. He wanted me to pretend that I was a willing participant. He would've been angry otherwise, he might've gotten so upset that he would've killed me or worse - he could've found another use for me. A test subject for his experiments or he could've sold me. I had to fake it.'_

 _'So I - I guess, I faked it so well that my body started to believe it._ That doesn't mean that I wanted it. _Doesn't mean that I ever really wanted him, no matter how much I begged for it at the time.'_

And _oh Lord,_ had he _begged_ for it. His time with Eddie couldn't even begin to compare to the intense euphoria and desperate hunger that he'd felt when he was taken by the Goblin. His tutor had so many more opportunities and still fell so far short. Meanwhile, it only took one night with that crazed green lunatic to leave Harry wanting for more in spite of any lingering sense of self preservation that he still possessed. His subconscious knew it, but Harry refused to acknowledge it. _'I don’t want_ him. _It’s the drug, whatever he used on me, I just wanted more of it and the things it did to me.._ _.’_

The drug had put him in such a state. He’d been unbearably hot, staying hydrated was the greatest challenge of their marathon fuckfest. _'Ugh,'_  and _oh_ did that creep enjoy _the challenge_  bystrivingto find creative ways to introduce fluid into the boy's body. Ice, water, Gatorade, sweat, saliva, even piss at one point and so much cum he could've drowned in it. 

_'I felt totally helpless. I was naked, so horny I couldn't think beyond how to convince him to fuck me again, more, harder, faster... the whole goddamn world fell away, I forgot everything else, but the feel of skin on skin, the taste of him, the smell of sex, the pressure building inside of me, and still I wanted for more. I needed more.'_

The whole time he was there, whenever his mind surfaced enough to worry about more than begging for the next load, the greatest torment was having to wonder whether or not anyone would ever find _or be able to identify_ his body if the Green Goblin changed his mind or accidentally killed him. _‘What state would I have been left in? What would people think of me? Peter? Dad? Gwen? MJ? Aunt May?’_

For some odd reason, matronly Aunt May got stuck in his mind as having the most horrific response. Probably because sometimes, when he got so caught up in imagining a future with Peter, he couldn’t help but think of May with all the fondness that he’d held in precious reserve for his own mother. _And bless her beautiful soul,_ May always saw the best in Harry despite his stubborn, bratty exterior.

Dear lovely Aunt May, being reminded of her while hot and horny was nearly as effective as dipping his junk in ice water. But those sobering thoughts were interrupted by the disgusting knowledge of what _the Goblin_ could do with _ice._ The chill that ran down his spine was not _innocent_ in the least.

He shuddered to think what Peter would do if he knew. Parker had a very difficult time navigating morally gray areas. At best, he'd be very confused by Harry's explanation, if ever he was brave enough to confess what had happened, but he suspected that Pete would ultimately be overcome with feelings of  _disgust._ Parker would find Harry absolutely revolting if he knew.

Perhaps Pete would even think him guilty by mere association or for failing to report the incident to the police. What if he blamed Harry for what happened? Or worse, what if he treated Harry like a victim and every interaction thereafter was tainted by overwhelming amounts of  _pity?_  Harold thought he would go mad if he had to live like that. He'd rather take responsibility for seducing the madman than be constantly reminded of how powerless he'd been. 

He wouldn't fare much better if the rest of the squad found out. Gwen would feel compelled to confess the incident to her father; she would have to insist that he report it. He couldn’t even trust MJ to keep this quiet. How would he even manage to work this into a conversation after over six months of pretending he’d only disappeared that weekend to go shag a sexy first responder? He would never be able to look his best friends in the eye again if they ever found out the truth.

 _'God forbid, if my father ever found out,’_ he shuddered at the thought of what Norman Osborn would do if he knew. _Therapy was completely out of the question,_ even if he believed that they would truly honor doctor-patient confidentiality. _No,_ this was just another terrible secret that he would have to bear alone and carry with him like a solid weight pressing down on his shoulders.

He just wished that his body didn’t _ache_ for him to do it all again. _'The most intense orgasms of my life, all at the hands of a criminally insane, homicidal freak.’_

Harry again felt unbearably warm beneath his blankets, his hands reached above his head, wrists crossing as though held down together by invisible restraints, Harry closed his eyes, threw his head back, thrust his hips upward, and opened his mouth in silent invitation for an appendage that _thankfully_ wasn't present. He fought the urge to moan and cry out in response to all the memories that flooded forward. 

 _He was so tired._ But he couldn't fall asleep like this. His dick wouldn't let him. If he could just - just _get off_ quickly, quietly, then maybe there was still a chance for him to have some dreamless sleep. Otherwise, he'd just lay here exhausted while his mind played this endless loop that kept circling back to that  _fucking freak show,_ and hasn't the Goblin done enough damage already? 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, fuck it! This chapter definitely doesn't feel complete. There's still more details that I wanted to add (and some details that might change depending on how the prequel plays out), like Harry actually jacking off at the end... but I've gotten very frustrated with it. So. Here ya go, feel free to comment with questions and suggestions about any changes I should make and let me know how much you all want to read a prequel that shows both Harry and Norman's perspective on the events of his abduction by the Green Goblin!
> 
>  
> 
> *Note to self, there's a lone about Harry thinking Pete is virginal, which will need to be changed if the prequels include the boys already experimenting together.


	15. Riding Henry, Thinking About Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll reorder the chapters later to squeeze this scene in, but for now I'm posting this little snippet just to put it out there while I figure out exactly how I want to handle Normie's nighttime activities. 
> 
> Here's where the sex scene with Henry Gyrich and Norman left off from that earlier chapter "Fucking With Henry Peter Gyrich."
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, my hell week just got worse, because now my throat hurts. Mommy got me sick, brought some virus or something back from a family gathering. Ugh.)

**Warning: Sex is About to Happen,**

**Featuring:** Non-Romantic, Gay Sex, Norman Osborn/Henry Peter Gyrich, Master/slave kink, memories of Father/son incestual rape and Daddy kink, oral, anal.

For those that want to skip this part, I’ll post a summary of the plot relevant details in the Chapter Notes. For everyone else: _please enjoy responsibly!_ **Ages 18+ only!**

#### Riding Henry,

While Norman throat fucked Henry, there was the whisper of a thought in the back of his mind that this wasn't what he wanted, wasn't _who_ he wanted.

_{"A poor substitute for the boy you really want to screw."}_

_'I don't fuck with little boys,'_  Norman reminded himself, wanting to dissuade The Goblin from pursuing anything of the sort.

 _{"Ohhhh, no?"}_ The Goblin sounded skeptical of that claim. The voice mocking,  _{"Are you sure about that?"}_

 _'_ _Henry Gyrich is a grown man, even if from this angle he could almost pass as an overeager teenager.'_ Norman  _was not_ going to entertain the notion of how Peter Parker might look in this position. Norman _was_ _not_ going to think about how he might arrange circumstances in such a way as to seduce Peter away from Stark. Norman _was not_ a monster _._ He could wait.

Parker wouldn't be a child forever. Eventually he'd go off to college, he'd start to experiment outside of the laboratory, and eventually - _eventually,_ he'd find his way into Norman's bed. 

_{"To that end, Ha~rry, could prove very, very useful."}_

Norman grit his teeth in anger. His grip tightened in Henry's hair and forced the man's head down for some particularly hard thrusts that pressed painfully against the back of Gyrich's throat. Norman did not want to think about Harry, _not now._ **_Not ever_ in this context. **_'Never again.'_

Gyrich gagged and the slaps on Norman's thigh pulled him out of his thoughts. He released his grip immediately and allowed Henry to retreat. After a brief fit of coughs, the politico was back to kissing ass, fondling Norman's balls and licking along the length of his dick.

 _{"Oh, please,_ you see the way that _Harry_ looks at _Pete_ , and there's _so much_ your son could teach his tutor. _Maybe he already has."}_ Gobby's voice was full of mirth. He - _it_ \- was enjoying this. Norman wanted to believe that the anger that surged in his blood was ignited by his desire to protect his boys, Harry especially. He wanted to believe that he was feeling _protective, **not possessive.**_ Norman was  _definitely_ not  _jealous._

 _'No,'_ Norman thought, _'Harry hasn't taught Parker anything of the sort.'_  If the two boys had started fucking, Norman would definitely know about it. _Besides,_ Parker was _too busy_ chasing after Spider-Man and now palling around with Tony _goddamn_ Stark. _Who knew_ what the poor boy might've been willing to do to score a job with his 'heroes.' If his sympathies weren't in such short supply at the moment, Norman might actually feel sorry for the way Peter was probably being _fucked_ by that egomaniacal, billionaire playboy and the stupid, fame hungry wall crawler. 

Norman's lips curled in disgust, and he tilted his head back to glare at the ceiling while he schooled his expression back to something neutral. Henry kept giving him these desperate, needy glances, and it was _only courteous_ for Norman to pretend that he wasn't thinking about unpleasant things - although, it wasn't as if he was _intentionally_ trying to prolong this particular activity. He just couldn't keep his mind from wandering.

Henry was a good _proficient_ cock sucker, if a bit sloppy in his inebriated state, but Norman had never been especially drawn to him on any more than a base level. Henry may as well have been a faceless fucktoy. In fact, the beauty of the man was how easily Norman could imagine someone else in his place.

_'But Not Harry.'_

{"No. _Never."}_ the unwelcome commentary was full of biting sarcasm. It was bad enough that The Goblin had tricked him into fantasizing about Peter. Norman would never _so much as think_ about hurting his boys, so far as he could help it. The things The Goblin suggested, _those weren't his thoughts._

 _{"Oh, come on, Normie,_ where's the harm in just entertaining _a fantasy?_ Imagine _the possibilities ~"}_ and it was too tempting to ignore, he couldn't _not_ think about it - about having both boys on their knees in front of him, begging for Daddy's guidance, happily vying for his attention and each wanting to take turns in Daddy's lap while the other licked up the drippings. Harry was always so damn _eager_ to please. _God,_ that did things to him.

Norman really shouldn't have felt so excited, so _aroused_ by his own son, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't stop himself from picturing it, no matter how hard he tried. _And he did try. Repeatedly._ Each time he tried to deny the attraction, the desire just grew stronger. But he didn't want to hurt Harry, and there was really no way around that, _was there?_

If he kept pushing Harry away, holding him at arm's length, then Harry was going to feel neglected. Unwanted. Worthless.  _Which was worse?_ Harry was getting screwed either way, wasn't he? 

Norman had plenty of experience, _decades._ If anything, Norman was definitely better suited to satisfy Harry than any of his son's schoolmates. Norman knew how to properly stretch and prepare before a fucking. More importantly, he understood the psychological component, and the many different techniques he could use to ease Harold into the proper state of mind for such an encounter. 

It wouldn't _have_ to be painful, _although mildly uncomfortable perhaps,_ but just until they got settled into a rhythm. They would both have to be patient. Harry would need time to adjust. The change would need to take place in small increments. A gradual shift in their relationship bringing them closer and _closer_ together.

In the meantime, Norman could pray that it would never come to be. As long as he was mindful of Harold's boundaries, eventually there would come a time when Harry would draw the line. At that point Norman would have to stop. He would definitely stop.  _Norman was a good father._ He would _never_ rape his own son. 

 _But_ The Green Goblin would. He _already had,_ and Harry - _his lovably idiotic son_ \- hadactually _enjoyed it._ That is, when he hadn't been crying, in fear for his life, and obviously terrified. _'No, don't think about that.'_ Norman tried to focus on the good parts instead.

Using The Professor's old recipe for aphrodisiac infused lube and massage oil had been a stroke of genius. Perhaps Harold's head injury had also been partially to blame. Harry had magically transformed that night from a scared child to a stupidly brave young man, and then he changed again into a wanton little whore desperate for Daddy's cock.

Harry's mid-fuck confession had been so unexpected.  _"Daddy,"_ he'd cried out, and for a moment Norman had thought that he'd been caught, but the blindfold was still securely in place.  _"Don't stop. Please, don't stop."_ Harry must've completely disassociated from reality at that point, must've been imagining someone other than The Green Goblin to make the sex more palatable.  _'_ _It's just a kink. A fairly common one, at that.'_ But Norman couldn't resist asking.

_"Do you love your Daddy, Fluffy?"_

_"More than anything."_ Harry's response had been too sincere. Norman didn't know of anyone in Harold's life that he loved that much, except maybe Pete but those two were more like brothers. 

_"You want to fuck your Daddy?"_

_"I want him to fuck me. Use me, abuse me. I don't care. I'll be whatever he needs. I'll do anything to make my Daddy happy. Anything."_

_"Fuck,"_  Norman was thrusting into Henry's throat again and the way Gyrich's face looked, even while Norman knew how much the man enjoyed being abused, he couldn't bear the thought of putting Peter or Harry in the same position.  _Even if Harry did want it,_ Norman couldn't let himself act on those desires. _It was wrong._ Sick. Vile. Disgusting. 

 _{"Sexuality so often is, Normie. That's no excuse to deny me,_ to deny yourself _the satisfaction."}_

 _'It was only a kink. Harry didn't mean any of it.'_ Norman hated himself for it, but he couldn't let go of the memory.  _'Harry loves me. Damn near lives just to worship me.'_ All the teenage angst and drama in the world couldn't overshadow that fact. It didn't matter how harsh Norman's criticism got or how much he neglected Harry in favor of his work. His absence just seemed to make the boy's affections stronger. Norman didn't deserve his son's devotion, and he knew it. 

 _'Harry is just confused.'_ It would be wrong for Norman to take advantage of his own son like that. It would have been wrong if Norman's hands had wandered when Harry clung to him for comfort. Would've been so, _so wrong,_ if he had carefully stripped the boy or gotten so impatient that he tore all his clothes off. 

 _No_ , instead, he could've sat down in his desk chair and ordered Harry to perform a strip tease _for him,_ until his son was naked as the day he was born and knelt before the man who made him.  _"Oh fuck,"_ Norman gasped, imagining that it was Harry's mouth attending to his cock just then instead of Henry. That fantasy took over his mind until he was brought to orgasm.

As Norman tied off the used condom, Gyrich kept kissing the older man's thigh, while he slowly eased his face away from the man's lap. Osborn's prick was still looking impressively stiff and lickable, but Gyrich knew better than to try to touch it again without permission.

"Are you a happy slave, Peter?" Norman's question was not unusual. He was checking in, wanted to make sure that Gyrich hadn't been hurt by the rough treatment he'd just received. Norman was really asking whether or not Henry was satisfied and if he wanted to continue.

Gyrich licked his lips and tilted his head forward in a bow. He chose his answer carefully. "I'm only happy when I am able to please my Master. Are _you_ satisfied? Is there _anything_ _more_ I can do _for you?"_

One of Norman's hands reached down to play with his hair and Henry strained to hold his position kneeling on the floor. He moved his hands to the small of his back and kept them there in an effort to resist the overwhelming urge to fondle his own cock.

"Not to worry," Norman told him, and Henry Gyrich imagined a rich fondness in that deep voice, "We are _far_ from finished here." Two fingers dipped down to hook under Henry's chin and to raise his head enough to meet Norman's gaze. "If you're _up_ to the task," he paused to glance down at Gyrich's erection with a smile, "I'll let you fuck me, but before you can _earn_ that privilege you'll need to prove that you can keep it up under immense pressure. _You won't disappoint me_ now, will you?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you know what happens if you disappoint me, Peter?"

Henry blinked in confusion. Whenever punishments were going to be involved in a scene, Norman usually talked about them before the scene began, and while Peter was still sober. He hadn't remembered any such conversations today... _"No,_ no, sir. _I don't -"_

"If you fail, if you go soft inside me or otherwise provide a lackluster performance, you can expect to _forever_ be denied another chance to fuck me. _Do you understand?"_

"Yes, Sir," there was a note of relief in his voice. As much as Henry was excited by the possibility of trying this new dynamic, he really didn't expect for it to be the kind of experience that would merit many repeat performances.

"Not much of a punishment, is it?" Norman laughed, "You're much better suited for the role of a bottom bitch, but my prostate isn't going to stimulate itself."

Norman instructed Henry to lie on his back. Henry was not going to be allowed to thrust his hips or to use his hands in anyway until given express permission to do so.

Osborn rolled a condom onto Henry's dick for him and lubed it up. Then Norman knelt over him, straddling Gyrich's hips and making quick work of ensuring that his ass was fully prepared before lowering himself onto Henry's cock, guiding it inside. 

After a very brief adjustment period, taken more for Henry's benefit than Norman's, he built up a steady rhythm, fucking himself, thinking of Gyrich in the context of being his living, breathing fucktoy. And it was fun to watch Henry squirm, having to resist the urge to buck his hips.

Henry's knuckles were turning white as he gripped the sheets, breathing heavy, having to close his eyes and think unsexy thoughts to keep from cumming prematurely. Norman slowed down the pace, his insides tightening around Henry's cock. "Not getting too close, are you, Gyrich?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... plot relevant details. 
> 
> The Goblin "tricks" Norman into fantasizing about seducing Peter Parker, then transitions into suggesting that Harry should be involved in the seduction plot. Once Harry's name is mentioned, Norman begins obsessing over how much he doesn't want to think about Harry in that context. _'Never again.'_ But then he just can't help himself. 
> 
> Norman wants to fuck his son. Confirmation that The Green Goblin raped Harry from Norman's perspective. And Norman still finds himself sexually attracted to his own son, although he definitely knows that this is wrong and he has made repeated attempts to deny it. As this goes on, Norman has very clearly begun trying to further disassociate himself from The Green Goblin. 
> 
> "The things The Goblin suggested, _those weren't his thoughts."_
> 
> "Gobby's voice was full of mirth. He - _it_ \- was enjoying this. Norman wanted to believe that the anger that surged in his blood was ignited by his desire to protect his boys, Harry especially. He wanted to believe that he was feeling protective, not possessive. Norman was definitely not jealous."


	16. Verbal Diarrhea Inducing Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Breakfast and Bad News**  
>  Characters: Harry, Emanuel and Mary Jane. Additionally, mentions of Norman.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for  
>  Harry is informed that his father received threats last night that pertain to him specifically. That there are going to be new security protocols. Also, Emanuel prepares breakfast for Harry and Mary Jane before they leave for school.
> 
>  **A Civil Discussion**  
>  Characters: Peter and Gwen. Additionally, mentions of Harry, MJ, Tony Stark and other Avengers.  
> Peter arrives early for school and meets up with Gwen to have a private discussion. She asks about his big news and how it relates to his Spider-Man activities. They get into a discussion that sheds some light on Peter's perspective of the events that transpired during 'Civil War' and where things were left off with regards to the fallout from Tony signing the Accords.
> 
>  **Bi The Way**  
>  Characters: Harry, Mary Jane, Gwen, Peter. Additionally, mentions of Emanuel and Norman.  
>  **Trigger Warnings** for coming out of the closet,  
>  Harry comes out to all of his friends as bisexual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have expanded my "first chapter" to include some "Character Notes" near the top (warning: it spoils details of Norman's backstory that have only vaguely been alluded to or otherwise haven't even been mentioned yet).
> 
> Also, if you want to see exactly what happened between Harry and The Green Goblin to prompt that nightmare (from both Harry and Norman's perspective), you can check out the prequel I'm working on entitled "Norman Didn't Plan For This."

#### Breakfast and Bad News with Emanuel,

There were still seventeen minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Harry dismissed it and climbed out of bed. A quick shower to wash away the shame, a change of clothes, a little concealer and foundation to hide the little bits of acne that were an unavoidable part of the teen years. Not coincidentally, it seemed the very worst of his skin problems cropped up right around the same time that his most horrible memories got the better of him. _'Sweat and stress always disrupting my beauty rest. Ugh.'_

Harry knocked on the Guest Room door and called out for Mary Jane. "Rise n’ shine, Sleeping Beauty!" There was a muffled, mumbley complaint in response. "I'm sorry, Sunshine, I didn't quite catch that," he said with a grin. That was met with a quiet smack as a pillow was hurled at the door. _"Aw,_ come on! Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Let's go!" After a brief pause, during which he heard a distinct lack of movement, he broke out into song, _"It's a brand new day, and the sun is high, All the birds are singing -"_

“Ugh! _Oh my god,_  no! Please, just five more minutes, Mom!” She complained. Harry tried to resist the urge to slap his face with his palm. She sounded awake enough to know the difference between his and her mother’s voice. Mary Jane just liked to tease him by saying that he was the mother hen of the squad, an apparently necessary position for any group.

_“But don’t worry, you’re the cool mom. Like Aunt May. You just look out for everyone else.”_

_“That doesn’t make me feel better! Dammit, don't compare me to my crush’s Mom-Aunt!”_

_“Aw, but I thought the incestual element would turn you on even more.”_

_“I hate you. I never should have told you about that. Why do I ever tell you anything?”_

_“You just can’t help yourself. Couldn’t keep a secret to save your life, Hare.”_

_'Yeah, don't count on it,’ he’d thought. 'I’ve managed pretty well so far.’_

He was pulled out of his flashback by some loud sounds in the kitchen. _'Dad?’_ he wondered. But it had sounded like pots or pans clanking, cupboards and drawers being opened. Feeling a little bit wary after the awful dream he’d had last night, Harold quietly padded down the hall and peeked around the corner.

“Manny?” He asked with relief. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m trying to make breakfast!” His chauffeur explained. “Figured you kids probably worked up an appetite last night,” he said with a wink. His voice regrettably dropped into something a little more somber, “And you and I have some stuff to talk about.”

“Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Harry made his way to the breakfast bar and sat on a stool there. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like this.

“New security protocols. Harry, your father received some threatening messages last night.”

Harry’s pulse jumped up a notch. “Where is my dad? Is he okay?”

“Your dad is safe, maybe a little rattled but it’s really difficult to tell with that man. You'd know better than I would.”

“Okay, but where is he?” Harry was anxious to see his father.

“I don’t know. My primary concern is keeping you safe. Harry, your life may be in danger. Your father was very insistent that I make this clear. We’re taking these threats seriously, and you should too. I’m not trying to scare you, okay? We’re going to do everything we can to keep you safe, but that means you and your friends are going to have to follow along. No more sneaking off. Ever. At least, not until this is resolved." 

Emanuel moved to set a plate of French toast and syrup on the counter in front of Harry. He paused, standing there, facing the grumpy teenager.

There were footsteps down the hall that alerted both boys to Mary Jane’s approach. She entered the room, stretching both arms above her head with a big yawn. “Morning Manny, Harry,” she greeted. Then she did a double take, it was unusual to see the chauffeur in the kitchen. Her confused face earned her a little pat on the head.

“How do you like your eggs?” He asked her.

“Unfertilized,” Harold said under his breath. MJ shot him a dirty look before wandering over to the fridge and pulling out some orange juice.

“Over Easy,” she said.

 _“Ha,_ of course,” Harold snorted. “I like mine hard,” he added with a wink. MJ scrunched up her face and stuck her tongue out while she poured herself a glass of OJ. Before she could take a sip, Harold stole it. With a grumpy sigh and a glare she turned to grab another cup.

Emanuel rolled his eyes at their antics and prepared the eggs as specified. He muttered something about silly sex crazed adolescents under his breath. 

#### After Breakfast

Emanuel led MJ and Harry down to one of OsCorp's nondescript armored vehicles. At a glance, it looked almost like any other luxury SUV on the market, but Harry recognized it almost immediately as the most expensive car in the lot. The special order was placed shortly after The Vulture tore through a limousine when he was trying to grab Norman Osborn the second time around.

Harry rarely had any reason to use this vehicle. Armored cars generally weren't very fuel efficient, so it seemed like a big F U to the environment to go riding around in this stylish tank under normal circumstances. But these weren't normal circumstances. _'Whatever these threats are, Dad is taking them seriously.'_

Once seated in the car, MJ noticed that Harry seemed more... _subdued_ than usual. "So, _last night..."_ she trailed off.

Harry snapped out of his contemplative, broody silence immediately.  "What about it?"

 _"You -"_ MJ spared a glance towards the chaffeur, "-you told your Dad about, ahem," she waved her hands about in a vague _'you know what I'm talking about'_ sort of way.  She was reluctant to be more specific than that outloud. Harry trusted Emanuel with most teenage gossip, but she wanted to err on the side of caution in discussing this topic. When her eyes met Harry's they widened and her eyebrows lifted as if trying to convey more than what had been explicitly stated, hoping that he would be able to fill in the gaps on his own. 

It took him a second to figure out what she was referring to, but his eyes lit up when it finally clicked. "Oh," he remembered. He'd officially come out to his father last night. _"That._ Yeah, _yeah,_ I did."

 _"So..."_  she dragged out the word as if there were at least three o's before she continued, "have you had a chance to think about when you'll tell the rest of the squad?" MJ only phrased the question that way to ease Harry into deciding when he might be ready to tell Peter specifically. 

"Gwen already knows," Harry was quite certain of this, and acknowledging that fact made for a convenient way of avoiding Peter for the moment. "Probably, anyway, she's dropped plenty of hints and you know how she is."

"Yeah. I guess I kind of figured that, but what about Peter?" The forced casual tone did nothing to hide the seriousness lingering behind her question.

With a heavy sigh, Harry busied himself with inspecting his fingernails. When MJ crossed her arms and fixed Harry with an expectant look, he withered in on himself, but the only answer he offered was a short rise and fall of his shoulders that appeared all the more pathetic due to the slouch in his posture. 

Mary Jane's composure softened in an expression of sympathy and exasperation. "Come on, Hare. Aren't you concerned that if you hold off too long then he might get the wrong idea?" 

Harry made a face at that, as if he'd just swallowed a lemon. "You think that if I wait too long, _then what?_ What is he going to think?" The sour look morphed into something more akin to constipation. "You think that _he'll think_ that I  _intentionally_ tried to deceive him? _To what end?"_

"To get into his pants, what else?" she pretended that the answer was obvious, but everything in Harry's body language was shouting, _'what are you, nuts?'_ Because despite how true it may or may not be, that was probably the last possibility _Oblivious Pete_ would ever consider.

"This is _Peter_ we're talking about. I could kiss him _on the dick_ and he'd probably think I was just fooling around, like guy friends do."

"Bullshit," she immediately called him on that exaggeration. 

"Did he ever tell you about how Liz first kissed him and he _still_ thought her interest in him was purely platonic?"

 _"Ugh!_ That's different. She just planted one on him during New Years. It probably just seemed like an impulsive, celebratory gesture at the time."

 _"Exactly._ And Pete will find some other justification for anything I say or do."

"But that was also  _Liz,_ the ditzy, pom-pom waving fickle bitch. Nothing that girl ever said or did made one iota of sense to Pete or anyone with a half functional brain." MJ may have gotten carried away with that description, but it was hardly the first time that she'd heaped on the vicious criticism for Harold's benefit. 

 _"That's all beside the point."_ He ground out. 

"Okay, setting aside the fact that Peter's interest in the vicious harpy was entirely opportunistic, because he wasn't even interested until she made it abundantly clear that she was. I'm just _concerned_ that Peter might not be as cool with your potential interest if you put off telling him for much longer. It may not click right away, but once he has time to muddle things over and actually think about how you've been acting lately. What with how, um, how should I say -"

"Obsessive. You're about to say that I've been acting like a possessive, creepy -"

"I was definitely not going to say creepy."

Harry leveled a flat stare in her direction.

"Okay, maybe a little creepy."

With an anguished groan, Harry buried his face in his hands.

"The fuck am I supposed to do, MJ?"

"I think you need to come clean. Be honest with him about how you feel, sooner rather than later."

"Like _how soon?"_

"That's up to you. And it doesn't all have to be said at once, ya know. No overblown love confession actually ever works in real life, unless your true goal is to get a restraining order."  _Oops,_ that was definitely the wrong thing to say. "Just take baby steps."

#### A Civil Discussion,

Peter had gotten up bright and early this morning. Brushed his teeth real quick, gathered his things and grabbed a quick snack while he ran out the door. Web slinging his way to school was a perfect start to his day. He'd gotten to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour the previous night and managed to get a whole four-point-five hours of uninterrupted sleep!

Come to think of it, that still wasn't near enough to the daily recommended dose of rest, but that whole eight hour requirement is for _humans._ And as his current activities could attest, he was _much more_ than human. He was flinging himself around the city via ridiculously high tensile strength lines of web, keeping alert for any trouble via his Spider Sense, occasionally clinging to walls, and so _of course_ he could easily function fine with less sleep! Who even has time for eight hours a night, _honestly?_ Ridiculous!

He dropped into an alley just a couple blocks from the school. He stood behind a dumpster while he threw his street clothes on over the suit and pulled his mask and gloves off. He'd texted Gwen last night, promising to be early today. He had high hopes that she would be able to help him sort out the mess he'd gotten himself in with Harry. _'Cuz girls are smart about this kind of thing, right?'_

'No, wait, _shit, okay that was probably a little sexist. But_ Gwen specifically _is one smart cookie! And she's one of the few people that knows the situation -_ the full situation _\- well enough to provide some much needed perspective.'_

Lord knows he can't talk to his teammates about this and expect a straight answer. Come to think of it, if he wanted to hear it _straight,_ maybe trusting a lesbian to help is just asking to get bent. But he didn't have a whole lot of options. MJ was probably the expert, but he couldn't say butt to her without fear of whatever he said being transmitted directly to Harry through their weird brain twin connection. _'_ _Damn,'_ he swore sometimes that those two spoke telepathically. Although, the more reasonable, rational part of his brain knew that they were using subtle social cues, body language and inflections that he just wasn't properly able to translate. Also, those two frequently snuck off to have private alone time. They were so obviously banging, worst kept secret _ever._

 _'Gwen's little theory about Harry's secret crush is totally absurd.'_  Peter reassured himself, _'Harry is definitely straight.'_ And Peter Parker was definitely okay with that.  _No,_ he was -  _he was ecstatic -_ wait, no, that's an even more weird response to have.  _'Ahem,'_ Peter Parker was _completely_ impartial, _totally_ unaffected by his best friend's sexuality, because that information has absolutely no effect whatsoever on their relationship. Or their lack of - _oh,_ no, _never mind._ Peter really needed to focus on something else.

He'd spoken to Stark last night and got the  _okay_ to bring his friends by for a little luncheon-party-shindig, but the sticky part was that  _Tony insisted_ that he would need to be present if Harry was going to be allowed into his building. It seemed inevitable that a Stark and Osborn encounter would just make matters worse, especially since Tony seemed eager to imply that he'd recruited Pete just to piss Norman off. 

Hopefully Gwen could help him figure out a way to convince both boys to play nice,  _and then,_ there was still the matter of fixing the growing rift between him and Harry. Peter wanted to blame the Spider Bite, the Super Powers, his Heroic Persona, the _Daily Bugle_ job, or even just the increased workload in his advanced classes for causing their little falling out. 

 _But truly,_ more than any of those things, Harry had been the most upset when Peter had briefly been dating Liz Allan. As he'd finished up his patrol last night, he'd reflected long and hard on where he'd gone wrong in the last year. While yes, he had blown the other boy off repeatedly in favor of his "work" for the _Daily Bugle,_ Harold had been grudgingly understanding of that. However, whenever he'd informed Harry of any plans to hangout with Liz, it had been another story entirely.

 _'But Harry kept insisting that everything was fine. He even said he was happy to give me advice!'_ Peter had gotten so bold as to suggest a double date at one point, but Harry had suddenly, _conveniently_ fallen ill. In retrospect, that probably should've been a big clue that something was definitely not okay.  _'I'm such an idiot.'_

The more he couldn't help but ponder those events, the more he kept getting drawn into questioning his earlier assumptions and wondering if Gwen really was right.  _'Is it possible? Does Harry like-like me?'_ Reluctantly, he had to acknowledge that gay/straight weren't the only two possibilities. Gwen seemed pretty sure of herself when she said that both parts of the Dramatic Duo were probably bi.  _'But if he_ does _like boys- if he_ really is _into me, then -'_ Then that thought made Peter  _really_ nervous. He didn't know how to handle it, so he just shoved it to the back of his mind all over again. 

While Peter fast walked his way the couple blocks over to the school, he'd been keeping watch for Ms. Stacy. As he spotted her, it occurred to him that he had no idea what he wanted to say exactly or even where to begin. If he jumps straight into talking about Harry Osborn, then she might start getting ideas and making assumptions that Pete was going gay for Harry. Which would be completely inaccurate, of course, and she of all people should really know better.

People don't just _turn_ gay. They're born that way, right? So _if Peter_   _was gay,_ then he should've definitely realized by now. Certainly, there would have been some sort of indication, some hint of homosexual tendencies. Boys don't just wake up one morning and suddenly realize that they want to suck dick or shove one up their ass or whatever gay guys do to each other. Peter wouldn't know anything about that stuff, because -  _because_ Peter was definitely _not gay._

Just your plain ole basic, white, straight, cis, male superhero. He was already seventeen years old, _dammit,_ he was Spider- _Man._  And yeah, Pete was still technically a virgin, but he masturbated plenty and always with pretty women in mind. Not boys. _Not Harry._

 _Except_ \- okay, _don't_ take this the wrong way, but -  _maybe_ the possibility of a devil's three-way managed to work its way into his fantasies once or twice or, like, a _dozen times, **but!** _ It wasn't like a serious plan or desire _or anything like that._ It's just that - Harry was much more experienced and Peter found it _weirdly_ comforting to imagine a scenario where Harry could - um, _help_ him. Just with figuring things out. A little hands-on instruction, _that's all._

Straight boys sometimes had those kinds of fantasies. _'It's not weird.'_ Wasn't there even a song about it? _'It's not gay when it's in a three-way. With a honey in the middle, there's some leeway.'_ Lonely Island, 3-way. Totally not gay. _'Moving on.'_

Peterfelt safe with Harry, like he could be himself without being in constant fear of doing or saying something horribly wrong. _When he had been with Liz... agh,_ it was all just so horribly awkward! He was always screwing something up wherever that relationship was concerned. There were plenty of mixed messages, missed signals, and strange interactions that he just could not make any sense of no matter how hard he tried. Pete always fell back to relying on Harry to explain the intricacies of human behavior. Even when things got pretty obviously uncomfortable, Harry was always kind and patient when he addressed any of Peter's social struggles.

Harry hadn't ever tried to push or pry or force his way in. Harry didn't try to insist that everything Peter said or did had some sort of unintended secret meaning behind it. Things weren't always easy between them, but Harry  _really tried_ to understand who Peter Benjamin Parker was, what he liked, and what made him tick. When Peter was with Harry, he didn't have to try so hard to be something or somebody that he wasn't. Pete could just be himself and it was such a relief, it was almost sad how big a difference it made when Peter didn't have to put forth all that extra energy just to avoid the painful misunderstandings that had always plagued his every social endeavor. 

If Pete ignored Harry's -  _uhh_ , ahem - _penis,_ then Harry was almost tailor made to be the perfect girlfriend to compliment all of Peter Parker's eccentricities. Harry brought out the best in him, encouraged Peter to have more self confidence, taught him little tricks to improve his posture, how to effectively deal with panic attacks and to save face after any awful social missteps, but Harry had _never_ tried to make Peter into someone else. He'd never pressured Peter to fit into that impossible mold of neurotypical thoughts and behaviors. Peter  _actually liked_ the person that Harry was helping him become.

But also, more importantly, Harry _liked_ Peter for who he was _right now,_ and not just who he thought Peter _could be._  There was always room for improvement, of course, but that was just part of growing up. If Harry ever suggested that Peter try to learn a new thing or do something a little bit differently than what he was used to, then it was usually because Harry thought it would be fun or helpful. To be honest, it was almost always fun and occasionally it even proved to be useful. Their brief foray into cosplay and the experience Peter got backstage working on some of their theatrical endeavors proved invaluable when he was designing his superhero persona. The famous (or infamous?) Spider-Man onesie owed a lot to those late nights spent listening to the rest of the squad chatter on about practical fashion choices and how they would go about modernizing classic comic book costumes. But that's a tangent for another time.

Since he'd befriended Harry, Peter actually had friends, plural, as in more than one! There were people in his life now that he'd formed personal attachments to. _Real people,_  not just fictional ones or celebrities that he'd probably never meet - peoplehe could actually count on, besides his Aunt and - _and Uncle Ben._  

That was a sobering thought. It was impossible for Peter to ignore the impact that the Parker family had on shaping his values and his sense of responsibility, but if it wasn't for the improved relationships he'd had with his peers then he thought he probably would've grown to resent the burden that came with great power rather than to embrace it.

Spider-Man could've just as easily become a villain. After all those years being bullied in school, it would've been so easy to have let the anger and bitterness get the better of him if he hadn't had the Squad and Aunt May around to help him process his grief after Ben died. One thing was certain, Peter Benjamin Parker was a healthier, more well rounded and generous person in large part thanks to Harold Osborn's friendship. 

Point is, Harry was a really good friend.  _'But would it really be so bad if he and I were more than that?'_ How would they even go about testing such a - _uhh,_ hypothesis?That kind of experiment could be really dangerous. Would it even be worth the risk to their friendship?

Peter shook his head to banish those thoughts. Gwen had noticed his approach and he raised a hand in greeting. "Hey," he said as he sidled up next to her. 

“Hey,” she quickly finished whatever she'd been doing on her phone and then tucked it away into one of her outfit's many pockets. With that done and Peter taking over her full attention, she didn't wait for him to broach a topic, she just jumped right in with her own question, “Are we going to talk about this _new job of yours,_ or did you completely forget that you promised to tell me more?”

“Oh,” _he had forgotten._

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious what’s really going on, but I’d like to hear some confirmation.”

“It’s exactly what you think it is. Stark put together a new team of Avengers and Spidey got an invite.”

“And I’m supposed to be reassured by this? What happened to the old team? Last I heard, most of them were on the lamb.”

“It - _it’s complicated._ Mr. Stark says that - _well,_ it’s about accountability, okay? The old team wasn’t willing to get on board with working with governmental oversight. Because, um, basically, how’s the public supposed to trust us to be the heroes if we only answer to ourselves? What happens when we make a mistake or go too far?”

“Hm,” Gwen looked concerned. Why does she look so -

“I guess, you could say this whole situation is just, basically, we’re trying to do the most good that we can and _work with the police_ rather than interfering with affairs that we have no business in. I mean, I made the mistake of attacking _Max_ because I just didn't understand the situation and I mistook him for a crook. So the Accords, as Tony explained it, is basically to keep us from making that same kind of mistake on an even more massive scale, especially one that could cause an international incident. Or extra-planetary, inter-dimensional, if we take alien portals into account...

"And me on my own, the vigilante schtick was getting really dangerous. Started to feel like there was a new supervillain every other week just to challenge me, keep me busy. And the limited resources I had to work with, kept giving me tunnel vision. I had a pretty narrow perspective of any given situation. Sometimes it got really hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys or just to decide when it was or wasn't a good idea to intervene."

“And you're sure that Tony Stark is one of the good guys in this scenario?”

“I -” _honestly, no._ Peter wasn’t all that comfortable wading into morally gray areas. He was a very black-and-white thinker, he used to be a very law-abiding, strict rule follower before - _well,_ things changed, and he found himself defying what he’d thought he’d known about the laws of nature and physics. _That_ whole thing really through his worldview out of whack, and he was still reeling a bit, trying to catch up. “I trust Tony’s judgement. He’s been one of my hero's since before he even built the suit! He’s a genius.”

“An engineering and tech genius, yeah, but that sort of know-how doesn't necessarily translate to political or _moral_ acuity. Just be careful, Pete.” 

#### Bi the way,

**Harry and MJ Arrive At School,**

Harold told his bodyguard where they’d be, and left Emanuel in the office to sort out the new protocol with the principal and on-campus police.

When MJ and Harry entered the cafeteria, they found Peter and Gwen waiting at their usual table. Harry did an exaggerated double - No _, triple -_ take while Mary Jane audibly gasped, _“Oh my god._ I don’t believe my eyes.”

“Are we late?” Harry asked, "Or are you actually early?” He was staring at Peter Parker with a big, silly smile. The brunette was looking as adorably dishevelled as ever.  _'Damn.'_

 _“Ha, ha,_ guys. _Come on,_ I’ve got a fancy new job," Pete had a big heart-warming smile stretching across his face. Imaginary butterflies fluttered in Harry Osborn's stomach. Peter continued with a shrug, _"So_ I guess that means I need to start being a little more punctual." 

“Yeah, _just a little,”_ Harry said as he took the seat across from Peter. Normally, he liked to sit next to the other boy so he could sneak little touches, but if he was going to go through with the plan he'd hatched with MJ during their ride to school this morning, then he needed to face Peter straight on to properly gauge his reaction.  _'Now or never,'_ he thought to himself.  _'Tell him, before you lose your nerve.'_

Gwen immediately took notice of the deviation from habit and became raptly attentive. She glanced between MJ and Harry, and adjusted her glasses to give her friends a stern look. “Did you guys just arrive _together?_ And are you wearing _Harry’s_ clothes?” she asked MJ.

 _“Ah,_ as clever and observant as ever. Gwen Stacy, the Sherlock to my dear Watson,” Harry commented, flourishing a fancy little gesture between each of the girls as he did. 

“Actually, _oh my gosh,_ that is  so perfect. The homoerotic subtext is so strong. It may just as well be overt. Would you _like_ it to be?” Mary Jane Watson suggested with a wink in Gwen’s direction.

Gwen flushed a bright red and became completely distracted from whatever accusations she’d planned to make after realizing Mary Jane’s Walk Of Shame. _“What?_ No! I mean, technically, yes. _Maybe?_ What are you guys even talking about? _Peter,_ help me out here.”

Poor Peter Parker just looked confused by her rambling. “I’m not sure how.”

“Well, allow me then,” Harold offered and with a quick glance in Mary Jane’s direction, met with a supportive nod, he proclaimed, “Because I have an important announcement to make.”

Gwen was so glad for the distraction just then that she sighed with relief. “Do you need a drum roll or are you just going to come out and say it?” She asked.

 _“I -_ actually, it’s funny you should say that, because that's precisely what I was about to do.”

“I don’t think they understood that, Harry,” Mary Jane helpfully gave him a nudge after several moments of awkward silence.

“I’m coming out,” Harry said by way of clarifying, “I came out to my dad last night, and now I think it’s high time that you all know. I’m bisexual.” And a massive weight was lifted from his shoulders as he said it, but he was still scared to look Peter in the eye.

Gwen selectively heard, _‘It’s high time that Peter Parker knows I want him and I want him bad.’_ She was grinning at Peter, who frankly looked stunned and dumbfounded.

 _'This isn’t a joke,’_ Peter realized. _'Harry’s being serious right now. Gwen was right. About that one part. It still doesn't mean he’s into me. Just that he’s into boys, but not all boys, probably just the hot ones. The ones he thinks are hot. I don't think that way about guys.’_ Peter’s attempts to straighten his thoughts were disturbed when he noticed three sets of eyes fixed on him. _‘Why is everyone staring at me? Oh,’_ Parker awkwardly cleared his throat. “That’s, um, great, Hare. How’d Stormin' Norman take the news?”

Harry blew out a long sigh before answering with a smile, "As if I just said the sky was blue, he’s cool." He almost didn't believe it himself. He wouldn't have dared to even hope that Dad would be so cool with it, but he was.

Gauging Parker's reaction was proving to be much more difficult. "It’s damn near impossible to startle him, ya know? Nothing surprises him anymore. Are you - _I mean,_ are we cool?” Harry worried his bottom lip and cringed as he asked. He didn’t know what to make of Pete’s hesitant response.

“Yeah, of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be? Cool as cucumbers, dude, bro, buddy, pal,” Peter was stuck in a very sad loop there, “I, uh, just need to go use the loo.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed MJ’s arm, “Silly me, always so scatterbrained. Um, could you help me find it, MJ?”

“Your brain or the bathroom?” She laughed.

“Both,” and he dragged her away, shushing her giggles as they went.

“What was that about?” Harry asked.

“I think Pete’s in a panic because yesterday I told him that I thought you were, um, well -”

Harry dropped his head and cradled it in his arms, resting on the table and groaning. _“Oh my god, you didn't.”_

“I said I thought you were crushing on him! Okay? I’m sorry, is it true?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's a brand new day, and the sun is high, All the birds are singing -" is from that funny musical with Neil Patrick Harris, Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. I have that song set as my Alarm in the morning.


	17. Small Setback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes MJ aside for a private conversation after Harry just came out as bisexual. Pete is now nearly convinced of what Gwen told him the previous day about Harry possibly having a crush on him. Since MJ almost definitely knows who Harry's secret crush is, it seemed like a good idea to just ask her directly so that Peter could figure out how to handle this situation before things have a chance to escalate into severely awkward territory. 
> 
> I'm sure there's lots of things about this chapter that could be improved upon, but I just don't have the energy for it right now. And I'd like to gauge my audience's reaction to MJ's characterization at this point. But first allow me to reiterate, in my version, Mary Jane is _Harry's_ best friend. She tolerates Pete, even likes him, but between her own personal issues and the energy spent helping Harry deal with his - she doesn't have enough reserves left to spend on coddling Peter. Furthermore, she has no way of fully understanding Peter's perspective here, so she's going to be drawing some fast, erroneous assumptions. So cut her some slack before you get mad at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, someone needs to stop me! I keep adding and tweaking details from the past and going off on silly tangents, ridiculous ideas that I probably won't even be able to work into the rest of the story! But I'm particularly happy with my latest short little draft. 
> 
> Since my version of Mary Jane has been attending the same school as Harry and Peter since the Seventh Grade, that screws up her introduction in The Spectacular Spider-Man Cartoon when she arrived as Peter's blind date to the dance. So... I want to rewrite that episode so that Harry set Peter up with Felicia Hardy when Betty Brant said no. (And Harry only did that to save Peter the humiliation of losing the bet to Flash Thompson, the one where the loser has to dress up as a cheerleader for Halloween. Felicia only agreed to go because Peter Parker takes pictures of Spider-Man for The Daily Bugle and the curious kitty was fishing for info on her superheroic crush.)
> 
> So yeah, that's one of the many places that my head has been.

By the time Peter managed to drag Mary Jane away, well out of earshot from the cafeteria, around the corner and into a semi-secluded little nook under a flight of stairs, Pete had worked himself up into a fidgety, panicking wreck.

 _"Whoa,_ Tiger, what’s up?” her amusement quickly transformed into concern. Petey had just said that he and Harry were cool, _right?_ But even so, she supposed that this news was rather unexpected. Parker was probably just panicking because he didn't know how to handle this revelation without saying something stupid or insensitive. It wasn't unusual for Peter to get upset whenever he encountered a new situation, especially one that he didn't have a script for. 

“Harry is _\- !"_  Peter's mouth snapped shut before he could complete the statement. He grabbed at his short hair and tugged on two handfuls while he shook his head.  _"I -_ He -" Peter was having some immense difficulty stringing together a coherent sentence. Mary Jane crossed her arms and leant casually against a wall while she waited for him to remember how words work.

 _"Yesterday,_ Gwen told me - ah, _uhh,”_ Pete took half a second to remember their very public location and glanced around nervously, checking for any obvious eavesdroppers and noticing none. When he returned his gaze to Mary Jane, Pete's big brown eyes were pleading for reassurance, “MJ, _please_ tell me she’s wrong.” 

“You need to actually tell me what she said first, Tiger." MJ smiled ruefully as she reminded him, not for the first time, "I’m not a mind reader." She gave him a quick little tap on the forehead and then slid her hand up to ruffle his hair. "And _you know_ my immediate impulse is to side with Miss Stacy." Peter was pouting and pretending to fix his hair, as if _Mary Jane_ had been the one responsible for messing it up. MJ rolled her eyes and stepped back to resume her pose leaning against the wall. "Whatever it is, she’s probably, almost definitely, _absolutely_ right.”

Peter was anxiously bouncing on the balls of his feet, rocking himself with the movement. He was fidgeting so much, Mary Jane half expected him to start climbing the walls. “Out with it Peter, what did Gwen tell you?”

 _“She said_ Harry might have a crush on me. _And now_ he's just come out as bi. _Please,_ tell me that he’s not about to ask me out." The frightened, pleading look in Peter's eyes made MJ’s heart ache _for Harry._ He would be devastated if he knew that this is how his crush was reacting to the news. _Honestly,_ couldn't Parker at least keep himself together and cool headed for Harold’s sake?

 _“Seriously,_ are you kidding me right now?" MJ's sudden flash of anger suprised Peter. With a sad frown he shook his head.

"Oh my god. I really expected better from you." She poked him square in the center of his chest and Pete visibly cringed when she leaned towards him. In a harsh whisper, she continued, "Harry decides to reveal this _deeply personal_ part of his identity - a part that could make him a target for all sorts of stupid harassment - and _you._ Ugh, _you_ , who claim to be his _best friend,_  are all freaked out because you’re worried that his interest in dudes means that he _must_ want _you."_

Peter nearly tripped over himself as he backed up against the wall. His Spider Sense was  _totally useless_ when it came to predicting verbal assault, and even though Petey knew this was just meant as a mild rebuke, her tone of voice set alarm bells ringing in his brain as if he'd done something truly horrible that he should feel very, _very_ sorry for. 

"I didn't mean it like that," he tried to defend himself. 

 _"No?"_ MJ stepped back, away from him, and crossed her arms. "Then how did you mean it, _exactly?"_

"I, uhh," Petey didn't know what to say. _"I just thought - Gwen made it seem as though - maybe," ..._

"Don’t flatter yourself, Parker. _Harry_ can do way better and he knows it.”

And _'Oh My God,’_ she thought as she walked away. _'Harry is going to be so upset with me when I tell him what just happened. Fuck.'_ She steered clear of rejoining the rest of the squad, there wasn't much time left before homeroom anyway.  

_'I just - I spend too much time on Tumblr and talking to Stacy, I just burst into full rant without remembering the fucking context. What if Pete’s bi-curious and I just stupidly jumped on the assumption that he was being homophobic? What if Peter was all frantic because he’s interested? What if he was just scared because he doesn't want to screw things up? His relationship with Liz last year ended in disaster. Pete's probably not all that eager to try dating again after that awkward mess, and especially not if it would involve risking his friendship with Oz.'_

She berated herself for that stupidity all through first and second period.


	18. Don't Get Too Excited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been written into a teeny tiny corner. One of my guy friends has informed me that most teenage boys (regardless of sexual orientation) will fool around with each other. This friend suggested that I add scenes with Peter and Harry messing around. 
> 
> So I'm curious as to whether or not any of my readers would have any objections to that or suggestions as to how those scenes would play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Note: this would not change the fact that Peter believes himself to be straight. He's into girls. Messing around with Harry feels good, but it's just a fun thing they sometimes do together when they're alone and horny.
> 
> *My biggest concern is wanting any such scenes to play out in a way that feels authentic from the perspective of both Harry (a victim of sexual abuse) and Peter (who is both autistic and in a position where he could easily feel taken advantage of by his wealthy, more socially adept peer). Harry doesn't want to be like Eddie, he genuinely likes Peter and doesn't want to hurt him. Peter is painfully shy, confused and suffers issues with hypersensitivity - sometimes he can't stand being touched and other times he wants to get really close and cuddly, I imagine this would make him run rather hot/cold in these situations

Read the Summary. This is not a real chapter. I am in need of feedback.  

So.  

 

My rough outline for when/how Peter and Harry's relationship develops starts with them both meeting when they are twelve and entering Seventh Grade together. 

Harry befriends both Peter and MJ. (Harry quickly makes an arrangement with MJ that they are pretending to date because he wants to immediately throw off any suspicions that he might be gay, because he doesn't want to be mocked or harassed for being a sissy, fairy boy.) 

Sometime during the early spring of that same school year, an incident with Flash Thompson 'accidentally' pulling Peter's pants and underwear down causes Pete to feel really insecure about his penis size. So there's this awkward little one-off situation wherein Harry tries to reassure Pete by participating in a little "you show me yours, I'll show you mine" that gets a bit handsy.  

Then in May of that same year, The Battle of New York takes place (with the chitari invading and The Avengers fighting them off). One result of this terrifying situation is that Norman insists on taking Harry out of the city with him when he leaves the country over the summer on a business trip. Harry convinces Norman to invite Peter to tag along... Aunt May and Uncle Ben are initially reluctant to let Peter go, but after considering the violent mess left after what comes to locally be known as The Incident, they allow him to go. 

During this trip, Peter and Harry share a hotel room together in Paris. In fact, they share the same bed. Some awkward humping ensues. And things eventually progress from there. 

So boom. That's what I've got so far. 

Tell me what you think. Or don't. But the only way you can possibly sway the direction of this fic towards what you want to read is if you tell me what you want to see. And writing goes much faster when I get feedback about what's good and what's not. Encouragement always helps. I'm not above begging. I'm impatient because I want to read this story, but someone has to write it first. And unless anyone else volunteers to pick up the slack, I guess I'll have to keep doing it myself. 

...

Preview of Aunt May catching Peter/Harry:

...

 

As May was on her way home from her shift at the hospital she made a quick stop to pick up some takeout. Peter had texted earlier to ask if Harry could spend the night, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the cupboards would be mostly bare by the time she made it home. She was too exhausted to do any grocery shopping or cooking, so takeout it was then. Ben had mentioned picking up more overtime this week, so it would be at least another hour before he made it home.

The sound of her entrance through the front door was lost in the action sequence playing in the living room. She recognized it immediately as belonging to the same movie that Peter had already watched at least six times in the last two weeks. She half wanted to turn around and leave just to escape it. Perhaps she could camp out in Anna Watson's living room just until the credits were due to roll. But she'd already kicked off her shoes and she couldn't remember if the lights had been on next door or not.

 _Hm,_ she hadn't enough cash on hand to splurge on an order big enough to share with two teenage boys, so she thought better of announcing herself. Rather, if she could quietly make her way to the kitchen then she could probably enjoy her food in relative peace and save the leftovers for Ben. Harry usually didn't mind fending for himself, ordering in if he was hungry or making due with whatever was in their fridge, so it wasn't too terribly selfish of her to keep this to herself, _really..._

So stealthily as she could, she stayed close to the wall as she rounded the corner and made her way behind the couch towards the eat in kitchen. The lights were conveniently off, with just the glow from the television illuminating the room. She was halfway there when she heard an absolutely indecent moan that she didn't recognize as being apart of this particular film.

Actually, her first thought was to think that Ben had pranked Peter by changing his ringtone again, but then she heard it get even louder and more obscene than before.

"Oh my god, Harry, Aunt May could be home any minute."

 _"Hm,"_ Harry hummed his response and there was a slight smacking sound. _'Oh dear, oh my, oh god, no, no, no,'_ May's mind was screaming at her to disappear before they notice her standing almost right behind them. "Did you want me to stop?"

"No!" Peter blurted out, "Just - could you stop teasing and finish me off. _Please._ Hurry. _Before we get caught."_

Harry laughed, "if you're really so worried about getting caught, maybe you shouldn't have started this here."

"I didn't start it! _You -_ you," Peter gradually lost the certainty in his accusation as it faded into a mumble, "wiggled your butt all provocatively. _So unfair._ Totally _not_ my fault."

May saw movement as one of the boys started to sit up and she hurriedly ducked down onto the floor.

 _"Uh-huh,"_ Harold was responding, _"excuses, excuses._ Where do you guys keep your tissues?"

"Um," Peter couldn't remember offhand where the Kleenex box had disappeared to. Didn't they usually keep one by the couch?

"Nevermind," Harry was grinning, May could hear the smile in his voice, "bet it'll be hilarious to see you try and explain this stain to Aunt May."

"Ha - _ahh,_ Harry!"

 _"Kidding,"_ Harry laughed, "don't worry, I got this, just don't pull out until you're finished to avoid any leakage." And after hearing that, May beat a hasty exit out the back door.

...

 

Later that night, the boys were both squished together on Peter's twin sized bed, and Ben came home to find May with her face buried in her arms on the kitchen table, an empty tub of ice cream resting next to one hand.

"Rough day, honey?" He asked, affectionately petting the back of her neck as he walked by to check the fridge for leftovers.

"You have no idea," she groaned. _"No idea."_

Ben found the takeout container, grabbed a plate and headed over to the microwave. "Wanna talk about it?"

May sighed deeply and spared a quick glance towards the living room. "No, no, not really," but her eyes said yes, yes she did need to talk about this. Ben caught the microwave on :01 to keep it from beeping obnoxiously and risk waking Peter. He walked over to the table and sat heavily in the chair across from his wife.

 _"I shouldn't,"_ she waved a hand in front of her face before stopping to hold her forehead and rub her thumb and middle finger over her eyes. "I really, _really_ shouldn't say anything about it," and Ben couldn't help but smile around the fork in his mouth because he knew she was about to say it anyway. All he had to do was wait about three more seconds.

 _"But of all places!"_ She whisper-shouted in mock horror, "the couch! _My_ couch! I sit on that couch. I love that couch. Why'd they have to go and ruin it? _Ugh,"_ and now she was pouting and staring sadly into her empty ice cream carton.

"What happened to the couch?" Ben asked.

 _"Oh,_ you do _not_ want to know," she said.


End file.
